Draco Malfoy & the Chamber of Secrets
by malfoytheseeker
Summary: Draco Malfoy's back for his second year, but he's not the only one. Draco knows that Harry Potter isn't opening the Chamber of Secrets, and there are plenty of reasons why. When Potter goes down to save the day, Draco finds that the Boy Who Lived to Be Irritating has forgotten something, and once again, Draco ends up somewhere he has not intended to be.
1. 1: Savior of the House-Elf

"Draco, honey, open the door! We have a surprise for you!"

Draco Malfoy obeyed his mother, even though she sounded oddly out of character. Narcissa Malfoy and her husband, Lucius, stepped in holding a cage. It was covered with a cloth that blocked Draco's view of the surprise.

"Voila!" Lucius exclaimed as he lifted the cloth. "It's your very own bunny rabbit! Isn't he cute?"

Draco gaped at his father for a while before he finally found his voice. "What's he called?"

"She, Draco. It's female."

"Her name was Bella," Narcissa provided. "Coincidence, I think. However, we've decided that 'Bella' wasn't suitable for such an adowable wittle cutie! She made my day bright. Thus, we named her Sunshine."

"Better yet," Lucius said, "she's having bunnies of her own! Isn't it exciting?"

Draco was now scared out of his wits. "Er, yeah. Love it." Draco tried his best to sound enthusiastic, and although he normally would have been able to do so, he was just too shocked at the moment.

"Now Draco," Narcissa said, "we're leaving the bunny here in your room. We've got to get to the parlour. I believe it's time for the weekly Malfoy Lollipop Handout Day!"

She rushed out calling, "Lucius, remember the free toothbrushes! Don't want anyone to get sick now, do we?"

Lucius smiled fondly at his son before enveloping him in a big hug.

"AHH!"

Draco woke up panting and sweating. He'd never had vivid dreams like those, dreams that he could remember having and remember what happened in them. He hoped that his parents weren't actually all sunshine and lollipops. In fact, he preferred the cruel personality that his parents currently had.

He looked out the window; it was dusk. He must have fallen asleep from boredom. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

"Draco!" a voice called.

Draco froze. It was his mother, and as he far as he could remember, she hadn't yelled at him for anything all day.

"Mother," he politely said as she walked in the room.

"Get ready. We are to have dinner with the Parkinsons in one hour." She turned and left the room.

Draco rummaged through his closet looking for his set of dinner robes.

"Dobby!" Draco called. He couldn't find the robes.

Strangely, the house elf didn't appear in front of him like he usually did.

"Dobby?" Draco tried again. When Dobby didn't show up, Draco decided that his parents had probably freed him.

Then again, that would mean they either weren't satisfied with Dobby's work, or they had become experts on elf rights...after Draco's nightmare, he didn't want to think about the second option even though he knew that Dobby was a pretty hardworking elf.

He quickly showered, gelled his hair, and slipped into his dinner robes before heading to the larger dining hall - the one meant for more than one family. The family would be arriving in about fifteen minutes.

When Draco was halfway down the stairs, the once missing house elf apparated in front of him.

"Dobby!" Draco whisper-yelled. "Where've you been?"

"Dobby has been a bad elf," the distraught creature said. He whacked himself on the head three times.

"Dobby, stop it!" But the elf kept punishing himself.

Desperate, Draco ordered Dobby to stop punishing himself and asked him what he had done.

"Dobby went to see Harry Potter."

"You what?! Why?"

"Dobby only means to protect him, young master."

"Protect him from what?"

"Dobby cannot say. Master has forbidden Dobby to speak of it."

Draco frowned; his own house elf was protecting the Boy Who Lived from something that had to do with his father.

"Dobby, I'm your master, too. You can tell me."

"Master Malfoy has forbidden it and because Master is the Head of Malfoy House, Dobby must obey him above all others."

"Well, am I allowed to ask what my father has to do with it?"

"Dobby cannot say a word. But Dobby told Harry Potter that he must not go back to Hogwarts. There is a plot to make most terrible things happen."

"What else happened over there?"

"Dobby has been taking Harry Potter's letters from his friends from owls so that he would not want to go back. Harry Potter was not happy with Dobby and didn't listen so Dobby used magic to make pudding fall on a house guest's head."

Draco snorted in laughter as the elf started sobbing hysterically.

"Shh!" Draco shushed the loud elf. "Is there anything else that happened?"

"Harry Potter asked Dobby to sit down."

Draco gaped at the elf for a moment before he realized that Potter probably didn't know a thing about house elves. Then a plan came to him - a plan that would allow Dobby to tell him what was going on.

"Dobby, am I a good master?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course. Young master Malfoy is the best master. Bad Dobby!"

He started hitting himself again. Draco ordered him to stop and checked the time. There were five minutes before the Parkinsons would arrive, and being purebloods, they would not be late. Not that Draco was judging anyone.

"Dobby, apparate me to my room."

The house elf obeyed, and the moment they got there, Draco grabbed the shirt he was wearing earlier.

"Listen, Dobby, this is important. You are a great elf and have worked very hard. However, this is so that you will be able to tell me what is going on and not hit yourself while you do it. Promise me that when I free you, you will continue to do what you have always done. Just _please_ don't do anything stupid."

Tears filled the house elf's eyes. "Master, you are so kind!"

Draco paused for a moment. If he freed the house elf, who knew if Dobby would actually stay loyal to him?

"Dobby," he started, "is there any way I can free you from my parents but not from me? Without them knowing, of course. And I would take great care of you."

"Young Master Malfoy is kind so Dobby will help him. There is no way to do what Master asks for. But Dobby pledges his loyalty."

"In that case, here." Draco handed the house elf the shirt.

"Dobby is free!"

"Shh! Now, listen. You will still obey my parents and me. You will act as if you have not been freed. No one can know about this. If you meet someone else and they ask you about your family, you will act as if you still properly and officially serve them."

"Of course. Dobby is happy to help Draco Malfoy."

"If my father ever decides to free you, you will act as though you have not been freed before. Dobby, no one can ever know about this, alright?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then let's get going. We have a dinner to attend."


	2. 2: Dinner With the Parkinsons

_Ding-dong!_

"Dobby, answer the door!" Narcissa commanded.

True to his word, Dobby obeyed, even though he didn't have to. Draco sighed in relief. His father looked at him inquiringly.

"I was getting hungry," Draco told him in a whisper and Lucius Malfoy whispered back, "Patience is a virtue."

Dobby entered the room followed by the guest family.

"Dobby presents the Parkinsons."

The three Malfoys rose and waited for the Parkinsons to take their places. Mrs. Parkinson took her place beside Narcissa Malfoy while her daughter, Pansy, stood across from her mother, next to Draco. Mr. Parkinson's seat was on Draco's other side which was across from Lucius Malfoy's seat.

By this time, Dobby had gone to the kitchen and come back with the appetizer.

"The appetizer," he announced, "Caesar salad supreme."

He set the plates in front of the Parkinsons first, followed by the Malfoys, in the order of youngest to oldest in each family.

Draco stuck his fork into one of the garlic croutons that topped the salad and spun it around in the creamy, anchovy-filled dressing before taking his bite.

On his left side, the women and Pansy were discussing the latest fashion trends while on his right side, the men were discussing Quidditch.

Soon, the main dish had been served: baked teriyaki chicken. Draco noticed that his father had dropped his voice to a lower volume, and so had Mr. Parkinson.

Draco pretended to be absorbed in his food while he listened to the men converse about something they would not have wanted someone Draco's age to know.

"What is the plan for this year?" Mr. Parkinson asked.

"Last year, the Lord proposed that should Quirrell not be able to find the stone, I should give his old diary to an innocent young girl."

"The Dark Lord is always prepared for the worst. But why does he have a diary?"

"It appeared to be empty at first. But I dropped a bit of ink on a page, and the next moment, the ink had vanished. So I wrote, 'I am Lucius Malfoy.' The reply was, 'Hello, Lucius, my dear friend. I am Tom Marvolo Riddle.'"

Mr. Parkinson's eyes grew wide. "So he had preserved himself in a book?"

"It seems so. I then wrote, 'I am a follower now. My task is to give this book to an innocent girl.' He replied, 'Good. Make sure that this goes to a pureblood who is somewhat close to Harry Potter.'"

Draco froze mid-bite. He regained composure quickly and proceeded to eat again.

Mr. Parkinson asked Lucius, "What do you propose the purpose of this is?"

"I asked him the same question myself and he wrote that we would all see soon enough."

"What could he mean by that?"

"I do not know. I decided to close the book and hide it."

The conversation ended just in time for a desert of black magic cake.

_How ironic,_ Draco thought. _Black magic_.

Mrs. Parkinson asked Narcissa, "When do you suppose the Hogwarts letters will arrive?"

"Tomorrow, or perhaps in the next few days."

"Pansy's so excited to return to school, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mother," the second year beside Draco replied. "I cannot wait to see Millicent. She owled me yesterday to say that she'd gotten a haircut!"

Draco tried not to roll his eyes.

"Well, that sounds wonderful," Mrs. Parkinson said. "And how about you, Draco? Are you excited?"

Draco hated talking to adults like Mrs. Parkinson, but he bit his tongue and politely answered, "I suppose so. I wonder who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is going to be."

"I heard, from the Ministry, that Gilderoy Lockhart himself is taking up that position."

That name did not ring a bell so he asked, "I haven't heard of him."

Narcissa told Draco, "We have his complete set of books in the library. He's defeated many creatures, or so he says."

Draco frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Books can be misleading."

Mrs. Parkinson looked shocked. "But Gilderoy would never lie about his accomplishments!"

Narcissa answered, "I suppose you're right." But Draco could tell that his mother did indeed believe that this man would lie and only agreed with Mrs. Parkinson so the conversation would end.

As the women began talking about people and society, Draco tuned in to the fathers. They, it seemed, had begun talking about Quidditch again, yet this time, it was about school Quidditch.

"Draco made the team last year," Lucius was saying. "Isn't that right, Draco?"

"Yes, Father. Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup."

"If I may," Mr. Parkinson said, "is not Terence Higgs, the former seeker, still in school?"

"He completed his seventh year last year," Lucius said.

"So why would Slytherin have tryouts if they didn't need another player?"

"Severus believed that Draco could do better and had seen him flying one day. I believe Harry Potter was chosen for Gryffindor the same way."

"Severus chose Harry Potter for Gryffindor?"

"No," Draco said. "Professor McGonagall chose him. They apparently needed a seeker."

"Draco," Lucius started, "you saw Mr. Potter nearly swallow the snitch at the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff game last year, correct?"

"Yes. I admit it was quite amusing. I still cannot believe that Madam Hooch announced the snitch caught when that happened. How did you hear, Father?"

"Amelia Bones works at the Ministry and her niece, Susan, had informed her of this."

Draco chuckled, "Even the Hufflepuffs are irritated by Potter."

Surprisingly, the men chuckled, too.

Soon, the Parkinsons left, and Draco went to his room to get ready for bed. When he stepped out of the shower for the third or fourth time that day (he showered often each day in the hot summer), Dobby was waiting for him. Well, he was actually just bouncing on his bed.

"Excellent job today, Dobby," Draco told the house elf.

"Anything for Draco Malfoy. Dobby is happy to serve him."

"You know I'm not your master anymore."

"But Dobby stays true to his word."

"I am aware of that. Er, what is it you do when everyone's asleep?"

"Dobby goes to his quarters after finishing any other work he has left for the day."

"Then you can go do that. I'll be in the library for a bit before bed."

The house elf disappeared and Draco made his way to the Malfoy library.

"What was this guy's name?" he wondered aloud. "Lickherd...Luckearn...Locket...Lock-something..." He trailed off as he found the books authored by Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Wanderings with Werewolves?" he read as he picked a random book from the series. He flipped open the book to...

"Chapter Twelve," he noticed. He skimmed through and found an interesting passage that had nothing to do with werewolves:

_"I prayed that the world would be safe in the event that I died. Then I realized that my birthday was coming up in a few days. My ideal birthday present, of course, would be harmony between magic and non-magic peoples. This gave me more motivation than I had before (110%, in fact, compared to the previous 100% motivation) to rid the town of the werewolf."_

"How do people believe this rubbish?" Draco asked himself. Evidently, he was nothing but a fraud. Draco doubted that he'd ever seen a live werewolf before. He set the book back on the shelf and retreated to his room.

If Lockhart was his professor, he would have to learn defense tactics by himself. As if school wasn't stressful enough already.


	3. 3: Diagon Alley

"Watch it!" Draco yelled to his snowy owl, Duchess, who'd just dropped the mail on his head.

"Dobby," Lucius ordered, "pick up the mail!"

The house elf appeared and did his job, taking only a few second to do so. He set the mail in the middle of the breakfast table and left.

There was only one envelope with the Hogwarts seal on it. Strange-why did Duchess bring it instead of a school owl? He neatly opened it the way he'd always been taught - with a letter opener.

He skimmed through the letter that told him to catch the Hogwarts Express at eleven on September 1st before reading over his supply list.

"It seems," he said, "that we need Lockhart's complete set of defense books. So either the new professor is a young witch or Lockhart himself."

"Can't say there's much of a difference," his father remarked. These were the times when Draco truly admired his father; every now and then, he'd say something like that and it reminded Draco that his father was still human, even if he had a knack for using the Cruciatus Curse as a punishment.

"We already have these books," Draco said, "so all we need from Flourish and Blotts is _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_."

"We shall go next Wednesday. I have to drop off some items at Borgin & Burkes."

"Will it be just you two, then?" Narcissa asked. "I see no reason to go myself."

"Very well," Lucius agreed. "Draco, you have done well on your exams, correct?"

"I believe one hundred percent on each exam," Draco said.

"Good."

* * *

Draco glanced at a skull before entering Borgin & Burkes. He looked around before walking towards an odd-looking sculpture. He reached out when his father walked in and slapped his walking stick a centimeter from Draco's hand. He drew back his hand the moment he heard the sound.

"Don't touch anything, Draco," Lucius ordered.

"Yes, Father," Draco said. He carried the box his father had given him to the front desk. A man came out of a door in the back and greeted them.

"Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again. And young Master Malfoy too. I must show you, just in today, and reasonably priced-

"I'm not buying today, Borgin," Lucius said, "just selling." He turned around and called Draco.

He obeyed his father and set the box on the table before stepping back. As his father talked with Borgin, Draco began surveying the room. As Borgin packed away the items from his father, Draco neared a cabinet. He was about to open it when the walking stick appeared next to him, slamming the cabinet.

"What did I say?" Lucius asked Draco.

"Touch nothing," he replied.

"Exactly."

"Sorry, Father."

Lucius retracted the walking stick and said, "Come. We'll go."

"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Malfoy," Borgin said as father and son walked out.

Next, they went to Quality Quidditch Supplies where Lucius bought seven Nimbus 2001s for the Slytherin Quidditch team. Off they went, to Flourish and Blotts to buy Draco's spell book.

Draco stepped in, and as usual, his father did not follow. He maneuvered through the women and girls (for if there were males, it was only because of their families) and climbed the stairs to the top and looked down.

A man announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart!"

The girls gasped and applauded loudly while Draco rolled his eyes.

Down below, a photographer from the Daily Prophet made his way through the crowd and snapped a picture of the celebrity.

Lockhart turned to pose again when he said, "It can't be Harry Potter?"

"Great," Draco muttered as he saw the photographer grab the stuck-up second year and shove him next to Lockhart for a picture.

"Nice big smile, Harry," Lockhart said. "Together, you and I will make the front page." After the picture, he addressed the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is. When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts this morning to purchase my autobiography, _Magical Me-_" he acted humbly as the crowd applauded him.

Draco scoffed; as if Potter would ever buy a book about someone's life other than his own.

"-which, incidentally," Lockhart was saying, "is currently celebrating its twenty-seventh week atop the _Daily Prophet Bestseller List_, he had no idea that he would in fact be leaving with my entire collected works free of charge."

He handed Potter the stack of books as the crowd "aw"ed and clapped. Draco made his way down with a random book opened to a page on hippogriffs. Although he didn't find the subject interesting at all, he ripped out the page anyway out of frustration and shoved it into his pocket.

He marched up to the Weasel clan and spat, "Bet you loved that, didn't you Potter?" Ungrateful little attention-seeking piece of scum. Draco definitely wouldn't be saving his life this year.

"Famous Harry Potter," he mocked, "can't even go into a book shop without making the front page."

A red haired girl almost a head shorter than him came up to him and said, "Leave him alone."

Draco smirked. "Oh, look, Potter. You've gotten yourself a girlfriend." His smirk faded when he felt a stick land on his shoulder. He didn't even have to look to figure out who it was.

"Now, now, Draco," Lucius drawled, "play nicely."

Draco almost scoffed; his father just wanted to make fun of them himself.

Lucius turned his attention to..."Mr. Potter." Extending his hand, he said. "Lucius Malfoy. We meet at last. Forgive me." He pulled Potter closer to him and moved his hair aside with his staff to get a better view of the scar. "Your scar is legend, as, of course, is the wizard who gave it to you."

"Voldemort killed my parents," Potter finally said, incorrectly interpreting Draco's father. "He was nothing more than a murderer."

"You must be very brave to mention his name," Lucius said.

Draco would have laughed; Potter was "nothing more than a" coward.

"-or very foolish." Lucius finished, smirking.

"Fear of a name only increases fear of a thing itself," said Granger, looking very angry.

"And you must be," Lucius said turning to Draco for confirmation, "Miss Granger." Draco nodded.

"Yes, your family once was a well-respected pureblood family." Lucius turned to look at her parents, who were quite far away, conversing with Mr. Weasley. "Squibs, aren't they? Pity."

He finally turned to the third member of the Mensonge Trio, as Draco called them. "Mensonge" meant "lie" or "lying" in French, a language Draco had mastered when he was young due to his family's ancestral nationality.

"Let me see," Lucius said. "Red hair, vacant expression, tattered second-hand book-" he removed a book from the youngest Weasel's cauldron, "-you must be the Weasleys."

Just then, the Head Weasel came up and said, "Children, it's mad in here. Let's get outside."

"Well, well, well," Lucius drawled, "Weasley Senior."

"Lucius," the other acknowledged.

"Busy time at the Ministry, Arthur? All those extra raids. I do hope they're paying you overtime. But judging by the state of this," he motioned to the book, "I'd say not. What's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

"We have a very different idea about what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."

"Clearly. Associating with squibs." Lucius placed the girl Weasel's book back in her cauldron, but Draco noticed that there was another book behind it that his father had just put down. "I thought your family could sink no lower." When "Weasley Senior", as Lucius put it, couldn't find a retort, Lucius said, "I'll see you at work" and turned to leave. Draco followed, only stopping to say, "See you at school" and to glare.

Draco left Flourish and Blotts and let his father Apparate them back to Malfoy Manor after buying the rest of his supplies. Once they entered, Draco immediately took his new supplies up to pack in his trunk, having already put Lockhart's books and his cauldron in there. Once he finished, he took the seven brooms from his father and gave Dobby the task of owling six of them to his teammates.

At last, he jumped onto his bed and relaxed, even though it was only three in the afternoon. Unfortunately, this did not last long for Dobby was sent up to retrieve Draco. He groggily made his way to his father's study.

Draco knocked on the door, and heard a, "Come in" so he twisted the doorknob.

"You asked for me, Father?" he said.

"Draco, what I am about to tell you is important and _strictly confidential_. You cannot even tell Crabbe's or Goyle's sons about this."

"I never tell anyone anything unless it concerns him."

"Good. Earlier today, in Flourish and Blotts, I slipped an old diary in the cauldron of the youngest Weasley."

Draco feigned ignorance and asked, "What for?"

"That I cannot tell you. However, I will leave it to you to ensure that she continually uses it."

"She's a Weasley. Not only will she probably end up in Gryffindor, but she is a blood traitor. How am I supposed to do that?"

"There are ways to do everything."

"Yes, Father, I will not let you down."

"Oh, and on a different note, I believe you noticed the arrogance of the Granger girl today, correct?"

"Yes, Father."

"You have been beating her in all classes, I presume?"

"Unless she also got one hundred percent on all her exams, then yes."

"Well, she actually happened to receive three hundred and twelve percent on her charms exam, according to Severus, among full marks on all other exams."

Draco's eyes popped out of his sockets and his jaw hit the floor. "How is that even possible? No one can have over one hundred percent."

"I know not, but I have asked Severus to consult the Headmaster. I trust you are studying hard?"

Draco smirked. "Of course not. Magic comes easily to me. I just have to participate in class and answer the essays completely. I'm not a Muggle, or a Mudblood, or a Squib, for that matter."

Lucius smirked in return and said, "Perhaps I was wrong last year, then. Make sure Slytherin wins the House and Quidditch Cups again, alright?"

"The latter, I can do. As for the House Cup, that depends on the stupidity of the others."

"You are a Malfoy; you will find a way."

Draco nodded and left the study. His father seemed to be proud of him. Draco felt that in his father's eyes, he had finally done something right.


	4. 4: Attention Seekers

Draco remembered how in Dumbledore's office last year he'd said he'd never Floo again. However, he found himself using the Floo to reach Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at Kings Cross Station. Draco's parents believed he was old enough to get on the Hogwarts Express by himself and that was exactly what he was doing.

He was finally on board and in a compartment with his friends Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Adrian Pucey, and the train had taken off when he realized that he never saw Potter and his pet Weasel board the train. He looked out the window and saw...a blue flying object he'd learned was a car. The car suddenly disappeared.

"Stupid attention-seeking brats," Draco muttered.

"What's the matter?" Theo asked.

"Potter and Weasley are currently flying a car to Hogwarts because they missed the train."

"Good one," Adrian commented.

"I'm not joking; you'll see when we get to school."

Draco pretended not to notice when Blaise gave the other two a look that meant "Don't say anything".

Suddenly, Draco got up and excused himself to the bathroom. He didn't actually have to go so he just stood in the last compartment in solitude to think. Why were all of the Weasleys except for Potter's friend on the train? Clearly it wasn't the family that was late. The Weasel must've been with Potter, and...damn Dobby! He'd gone "saving" Potter's life again.

This was soon confirmed when Dobby appeared with a crack in front of Draco.

"Dobby!" Draco whisper-yelled. "Why are you here? How did you get here? How did you even know I was here?"

"Dobby can apparate to wherever or whoever he wants, sir," the house elf replied.

"Please tell me you didn't try to save Potter."

"Dobby would obey, but he would be lying, sir. Dobby closed the gate into Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."

"Stop trying to save his life! He's going to end up pitying you and freeing you, even though you already are free!"

"Excellent idea, sir. Then Draco Malfoy shall not have to worry about being caught for freeing Dobby."

Draco thought about this. Could Dobby be right? This did seem like a good idea.

"You know what, Dobby?" Draco finally said. "You're right. Just please don't show up to see me again. You could get us both caught. If I was still in my compartment right now, we'd both be in trouble."

"Yes, sir!" With that, Dobby apparated away.

Draco, who was sitting down now, took a deep breath, stood up, and walked out of the compartment.

Unfortunately, he walked right into Granger.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she asked.

Draco sneered at her. "You don't have to know everything." He walked away before she could say anything else, but then doubled back.

"Oh, by the way, your so called 'friends' are currently flying a car to school."

Then he really did walk away before she could reply. He returned to his compartment where Blaise jokingly greeted him, "Upset stomach, mate?"

"Shut it. I just ran into Granger."

The four talked for a moment about Quidditch and things when Draco noticed something in front of the train.

It was the same blue car! He quickly opened the window and stuck his head out and saw Potter and Weasley turn around with frightened faces and saw (but didn't hear) them scream. They quickly got their car off the tracks before the train passed over the place they just were.

Draco burst out laughing only to have his three friends look at him in confusion.

"Just look out the window," he told them. The car was now in perfect view, only next to and above them, and they all had a perfect view of Potter almost falling out of the car.

"Weasley's hopeless," Draco remarked as he saw him failing to get Potter back in his seat. Draco raised his wand, pointed at Potter, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa." He directed Potter into his seat when Weasley got a grip on Potter's hand, making it seem like he did all the work.

"What was that about?" Adrian asked Draco once the train had passed the car.

"If Potter's going to die, it's not going to be because he fell out of a flying car."

"Why not?" Theo joked.

"Because there are people out there who want to kill him."

They all fell silent.

Theo was about to speak when Draco said, "No, Theo, I don't want to kill him. I'm not a murderer."

"Yet," Blaise added.

Draco's jaw clenched. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"Remember how our fathers apparently had a bet? The truth is that your father, along with some others, believes that You-Know-Who will be returning, and last summer, Father said that not only did he think You-Know-Who would not return, but also that he would not join the ranks if he did come back."

Draco was well aware that Voldemort was returning, but he only said, "How do you know this?"

"Your father visited earlier this summer...and he convinced my father to join the Death Eaters once he'd returned."

Draco just stared at the window because he didn't want to look at anyone.

"Draco?" came Blaise's voice.

Draco got up and said, "I'll be back. Just need some air." Before they could stop him, he slid open the compartment door and shut it as he left, walking in the opposite direction from where he was this morning.

So it was true. Of course it was true. Lucius Malfoy didn't have time to make up these stories. He stormed down the aisle and someone who wasn't paying attention crashed into him.

"Sorry...Malfoy?" It was Granger-again-and she apologized before she realized that it was Draco who she'd bumped into.

"Why on earth do you keep crashing into me?" Draco said, taking his anger out on her.

"I wasn't the one who was storming down the train without looking ahead!" she cried indignantly.

"Perhaps you were, Granger. After all, why would I be storming down a train?" Then he realized that Blaise could tell Granger the truth considering they were all chummy now. He abruptly spun around and marched back to his compartment.

"Wait," Granger called, "you didn't apologize!"

Draco merely laughed mirthlessly and continued to his compartment. Once in, he said, "Anyone says anything about anything, and you'll have my wand to answer to."

He promptly sat down and they all rode in silence.

* * *

The second years at Hogwarts school of Wizardry and Witchcraft had never been in Greenhouse three before, so Draco had no clue as to why they were in there. He found out soon enough.

"Morning, everyone," Professor Sprout said as she walked in. "Welcome to Greenhouse three! Now gather round. Today, we're going to re-pot Mandrakes. Who here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root?"

As always, Granger's hand was up in the air. "Mandrake, or Mandragora, is used to return those who have been Petrified to their original state. It's also quite dangerous. The Mandrake's cries are fatal to anyone who hears it."

She'd probably copied the Herbology textbook word for word, but Gryffindor was still awarded ten points.

Draco saw Potter and the Weasel grinning at each other so he glared at them.

"Now," Sprout continued, "as our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill you yet. But they could knock you out for several hours which is why I've given each of you a pair of earmuffs for auditory protection. So can you please put them on right away? Quickly."

Draco obeyed. The earmuffs hurt his ears.

Professor Sprout kept talking, yet she could still be heard so the class didn't have to rely solely on the visual demonstration. However, Draco could just clearly hear the Mandrake when Sprout pulled it out. She placed it in the next pot and began throwing soil into it.

Longbottom, being a weakling, fainted with his earmuffs on, and Draco laughed. Sprout just left him and told the rest of the class to pull out the Mandrakes. Draco thought they were funny looking. His Mandrake had his mouth open so wide that Draco couldn't resist putting his finger in it. Bad idea.

The filthy plant's mouth clamped down on Draco's finger and it took him ten seconds to pull it out. He glared at the Mandrake before shoving it into the next pot.

Lunch that day was quite interesting. An dreadfully tired looking owl swopped down carrying a red letter. He flew over the Gryffindors' table and crashed into a bowl of pasta.

Draco smirked as he saw Weasley pull a Howler out of the owl's mouth.

Of course, Finnigan confirmed it. Weasley turned around and saw Draco laughing at him; it was his turn now.

"Go on, Ron," Draco heard Longbottom say. "I ignored one from my Gran once. It was horrible."

The whole Great Hall was quiet as Weasel lifted the flap of the envelope.

"RONALD WEASELY! HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR? I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED. YOUR FATHER IS NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!"

In a quieter voice, the Howler said, "Oh, and Ginny, dear, congratulations on making Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud."

The Howler then turned and blew a raspberry at Weasel before "self-igniting".

Draco felt that the day was full of attention seekers. First the flying car, then fainting Longbottom and know-it-all Granger, then the Howler, and now, he was in Defense Against the Dark Arts, fully aware of who his professor was.

The arrogant guy not only gave the students a quiz during the first class, but it was also completely about himself! How big-headed could you get?

Draco found himself unable to answer any of the questions - he hadn't read the books ahead of time (what sane person would have?), he wouldn't have remembered anyway, and he didn't care. So what was it to him the Granger got full marks? Why should he have to do a quiz about some fraud? Hopefully, his parents felt the same way.

Draco knew he had to make up for failing the "quiz" so when Lockhart failed to get rid of the Cornish pixies, he volunteered to do it himself.

Honestly, the highlight of his day was when the pixies stuck Longbottom to the chandelier. It was so amusing that Draco just decided to leave him there. He'd get down soon enough.

Draco went to the Necessity Room immediately after dinner; he'd be learning nothing with the dumb blonde as his professor.

He plucked a book Not just any book...this book was the spell dictionary he'd found in here last year. He couldn't understand why the students didn't use this book, but he used it. He certainly didn't take it with him, though. That would be foolish.

He never used the book in order. He flipped to a random page and found the spell called _Everte Statum._

As there was for every spell, there was a pronunciation key, a description of the spell's actions, and the etymology.

**Pronunciation:** ee-VER-tay STAH-tum

**Description:** Throws the victim backward, similarly to if they'd been thrown. Causes a short burst of intense pain, which can make the victim stumble, but does not cause any lasting damage.

**Etymology:** The Latin words _everte_, which means "to throw out" and _statua_, from the same language, meaning "image".

Following it was the motion. Draco practiced saying it first, then performing the motion, before combining the two actions.

The room provided him with dummies to practice spells on. Draco stepped up to the line and yelled, "Everte Statum!"

As intended, the dummy flew back. Pleased with himself, Draco performed the jinx on the remaining dummies with equal satisfaction. The Dark Lord wouldn't stand a chance.

Draco nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of that sentence. He was done with training (he committed to one spell per session) so he headed up to bed. He had an early Quidditch practice the next morning meaning that everyone would be thanking him for the brooms.


	5. 5: Mudbloods and Murmurs

Draco was satisfied with his teammates' thankfulness for the brooms. The previous night, Blaise had said, "If I was on the team, I could've got one too. Hey, maybe you can get you father to get me one!"

To this, Draco had replied, "Oh yeah! Great idea! Then I would be able to figure out if he prefers to use the Cruciatus or the Bat-Bogey Hex. Anyways, you're rich enough to get one."

As the Slytherin team walked onto the pitch early that morning, so did the Gryffindor team.

"Where do you think you're going, Flint?" said Oliver Wood, keeper, Draco remembered.

"Quidditch practice," Flint replied.

"I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today."

"Easy, Wood, I've got a note."

Wood took the note from Flint and read, "I, Professor Severus Snape, hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to try out their new brooms."

Draco and his teammates all moved their brooms to rest on their right shoulders as each player smirked, watching the other team gawk.

"Those are Nimbus 2001s!" exclaimed Weasley. What?

Draco frowned. "When did you get here?" It was more to himself.

"How did you get those?" Weasley asked.

"A gift from Draco's father," Flint responded.

"See, Weasley," Draco started, "unlike some, my father can afford the best."

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Granger said. "They got in on pure talent."

Draco stepped forward, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He said, "I got in on the team last year because of my pure talent. So don't go shouting about your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

Draco heard a pin drop, and no one said anything except...

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Weasley said, glaring. "Eat slugs!" He struck his wand towards Draco, but the caster fell back instead.

The Slytherin team laughed as the Gryffindors rushed forward. After a moment, Draco heard a retching noise followed by groans of disgust. Soon, Potter and Granger left with Weasley looking like he was going to throw up...

...again, by the looks of it. There were a couple of slugs on the ground that weren't there before.

* * *

Harry and Hermione took Ron to Hagrid's to figure out how his slug attack would stop. Once there, Hagrid gave Ron a bucket and told them there was nothing to do but wait until it was over.

"Who was Ron trying to curse, anyway?" Hagrid asked.

"Malfoy," Harry answered. "He called Hermione a- a- well, I don't know exactly what it means."

Hermione crossed her arms and rose, walking to a corner of the room. "He called me a Mudblood," she finally said.

Hagrid gasped. "He did not."

"What's a Mudblood?" Harry asked.

"It means dirty blood," Hermione said, tears in her eyes. "'Mudblood' is a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born. Someone with non-magic parents. Someone like me. It's not a term one usually hears in a civilized conversation."

"But I thought your parents were squibs," Harry said, confused. "I mean, they are non-magic, but Lucius Malfoy said that the Grangers were a respected pureblood family."

Hagrid stepped in to explain. "See, the thing is, Harry, there are some wizards, like the Malfoy family, who think they're better than everyone else because they're pureblood. In these families, anyone who marries a Muggle-born is disowned. Most squibs are disowned. Not Hermione's, if I am correct, but most purebloods are keen on keeping magic to themselves. They think that only they should be allowed because of their heritage."

"That's horrible!" Harry said.

Ron threw up another slug and said, "That's disgusting."

"And it's codswallop to boot. 'Dirty blood'. Why, there isn't a wizard alive today that's not half blood or less. More ter the point, they've yet to think of a spell that our Hermione can't do. Come here."

When Hermione did, Hagrid continued, "Don't you think on it for one minute. There's no such thing as dirty blood - all blood's the same! Besides, you're pureblood, too, so if he tries ter call yeh that again, you can tell him to shove off."

* * *

After dinner, Draco (along with the rest of the school) headed to bed. However, he stumbled across something odd. There, on the wall was written in blood, "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware. A cat was hanging nearby, and the Golden Trio was right in the middle.

Draco searched Potter's face. He looked like he knew something, so to provoke him, Draco read the second line out loud before saying, "You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

If he was lucky, Potter would figure out some way to approach and question him, thus allowing Draco to find out what the other was up to.

Just then, Filch, the caretaker, arrived and saw his cat.

"You've murdered my cat," he said to Potter who tried to deny it. Draco smirked, but he knew Potter was too "good" to kill even a cat.

Filch threatened to kill Potter, but Dumbledore arrived, shooing everyone but the Troublesome Trio away. Draco, however, stayed behind, telling the others he had to go get something.

He hid in the shadows and listened to Dumbledore tell Filch that his cat had only been Petrified. Lockhart, of course, said he knew exactly how he could've saved her, and judging by what Draco could see on the others' faces without giving himself away, they thought Lockhart was rubbish, too.

Dumbledore wondered aloud how the cat had been Petrified and Filch accused Potter, who denied it.

"Innocent until proven guilty, Argus," Dumbledore said and when Filch insisted on punishment, the former continued, "We will be able to cure her, Argus. As I understand it, Madame Sprout has a very healthy growth of Mandrakes. When matured, a potion will be made which will revive Mrs. Norris. And in the meantime, I strongly recommend caution...to all."

Draco remained hidden until all the others had gone before distantly following the other three second-years, without their knowledge, of course. He followed them until they went around a corner towards the staircase, but before Draco could leave, the others had begun to converse. Draco frowned at one point and then heard footsteps go up the stairs.

So Potter could hear voices? If anyone, it should have been Dumbledore he told. Although Draco didn't have much faith in the old man (or in anyone), he knew that Potter should have told so that at least Dumbledore was aware of it. For all they knew, someone could have made sure only Potter could hear the voice.


	6. 6: Suspicions

In Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall had just turned her bird into a water goblet. This was met with impressed faces, including that of Draco's. Draco almost burst out laughing when McGonagall chose Weasley to perform the task first, and actually did laugh when he failed, ending up with a hairy cup with a tail handle.

"That wand needs replacing, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said.

Draco looked around the room and saw that Granger already had her hand up. Surprisingly, she asked about the Chamber of Secrets.

Even more surprisingly, the professor agreed to answer.

"Well, very well. Well, you all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. Now, three of the founders coexisted quite harmoniously. One did not. Salazar Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. In other words, 'purebloods. Unable to sway the others, he decided to leave the school. Now, according to legend, Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in this castle, known as the Chamber of Secrets. Though, shortly before departing, he sealed it until that time when his own true heir returned to the school. The heir alone would be able to open the Chamber and unleash the horror within, and by so doing purge the school of all those who, in Slytherin's view, were unworthy to study magic."

"Muggle-borns and squib-borns," Granger said.

"Well, naturally, the school had been searched many times. No such chamber has been found."

"Professor? What exactly does legend tell us lies within the Chamber?"

"Well, the Chamber is said to home to something that only the Heir of Slytherin can control. It is said to be the home of a monster."

Weasel turned around to look at Draco who sneered in return. The trio must have suspected Draco of being the heir. Ridiculous!

He walked out of class with Blaise asking him, "Do you think it's true? Do you think there really is a Chamber of Secrets?"

"I don't know," Draco said, "but the teachers seem a bit worried."

"Who could the heir be?"

"I don't know that either." Draco was about to tell Blaise that Potter was hiding something when he remembered that Blaise and Potter had once been friends. Instead, he voiced, "What doesn't make sense is why McGonagall keeps insisting that there's no chamber. Obviously, no one but the heir can find and open it, so no one else would know its location."

"That is strange, but I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens."

Later that day, Draco was in the library with the rest of his year when he heard some meddlesome people talking.

"Here it is. 'The Polyjuice Potion. Properly brewed, the Polyjuice Potion allows the drinker to transform himself temporarily into the physical form of another.'"

That must've been Granger. He'd gotten used to that annoying voice answering so many questions in class.

"Do you mean, if Harry and I drink that stuff, we'll turn into Crabbe and Goyle?" That sounded like Weasley.

"Yes," came the reply.

"Wicked! Malfoy'll tell us anything."

_Like anyone would be that thick_, Draco thought.

"Exactly. But it's tricky. I've never seen a more complicated potion."

"Well, how long will it take to make?"

Ahh, Golden Boy Potter.

"A month."

"A month? But, Hermione, if Malfoy is the Heir of Slytherin, he could attack half the Muggle-borns in the school by then."

Draco wondered why they were being so ridiculous about this. He obviously couldn't have done it.

"I know," he heard Granger say. "But it's the only plan we've got."

So in a month, they would be after him. But how would he know exactly when? Draco decided not to worry about that. Back in his bed that night, he wondered if his father knew what the chamber was. Of course, it'd be stupid to question him about it. But if Draco could figure out what his father had to do with anything, then perhaps he could come up with something.

There was that diary. Draco knew that it had gone to Ginny Weasley. She was an eleven year old girl, so she would probably write in it. According to his father, the diary would write back. Inside the diary (not literally) was someone called Tom Marvolo Riddle. Draco remembered that his father had written "I am a follower now" so that must've meant that Tom Marvolo Riddle was Voldemort's real name.

What about the diary? What would it do to Weaslette? She would probably use the diary like a normal diary, and it was likely that Riddle would reveal himself as Tom, not Voldemort. His father had talked about having to give the diary to an innocent pureblood close to Harry Potter.

She was his best friend's sister, pureblooded (even if not the same pureblooded type as families like Draco's), and was new to Hogwarts.

SO WHAT?

Draco was frustrated. He knew exactly what was going on yet he didn't know anything. He looked at it from a different perspective. Why was Potter hearing voices that no one else could? Well, it took that one question for Draco to end up at a dead end. Would Draco have to wait until Potter and Weasley visited him as Crabbe and Goyle?

Draco didn't realize that he would learn some things very soon.


	7. 7: Dobby ReturnsAgain

Slytherin was leading ninety to thirty, and the game was very intense. The Slytherin team fell into v-formation and flew around half the Quidditch pitch in victory of the last goal before heading to their positions.

Draco flew next to Potter and called, "Alright there, Scarhead?"

Suddenly, a Bludger flew out of nowhere and almost got Potter. Wood told him to watch out, but the Bludger came back and snapped off half of Wood's broom. Potter began flying away fast, but Draco realized it was because the Bludger wouldn't leave him alone.

Watching Potter flying around like that was quite amusing, so when the latter came to a rest, Draco asked him if he was training for the ballet.

Suddenly, there was a buzzing noise and as soon as Potter's eyes went over Draco's right shoulder, so did Draco's eyes. However, before either could grab it, the Bludger swooped over Potter's head and almost into Draco's, who ducked as well. The snitch was still visible, but it was farther away now, so both Seekers flew after it.

Draco shoved Potter aside and flew under the pitch after the snitch. He could hear Potter behind him, and then the Bludger broke something off.

Draco looked back, and Potter passed him, only to be caught up to again. The two flew neck in neck and whizzed past some first year Gryffindor with a camera.

Suddenly, the Bludger was in front of them and they both barely scraped by it. Draco hoped it was gone, but then it came through the side and was directly in front of Potter. As he swerved, Draco pulled up. He'd catch the snitch from above if he had to.

Unfortunately, the snitch came up too, meaning that Potter and the Bludger followed it. Draco zoomed forward and passed Potter when the Bludger hit the Gryffindor's arm.

He finally curled his fingers around the golden ball and heard Lee Jordan say, "Draco Malfoy has caught the snitch! Slytherin wins!"

Unfortunately, Potter stole the show by falling and having the Bludger almost slam into him several times until Granger, now closer to Potter, pointed at the ball and yelled, "Finite Incantatum!"

The ball exploded and Weasley and Granger rushed forward with Hagrid, the gamekeeper, as Draco was congratulated by his friends.

"What's happened to Potter?" asked Adrian, who had joined the team as Chaser.

"I dunno," Draco answered. "Let's go take a look."

The two of them, followed by Blaise and Theo from the stands, walked over to where Lockhart was sitting down next to Potter with a wand over his arm.

"Brackium emendo!" he said.

Potter's arm glowed blue for a bit, then Lockhart took his arm and held it up. The arm flopped and Potter looked horrified. There were groans of disgust.

"Ah, yes, well, ha, that can sometimes happen, um, but- uh, the point is, uh-" Lockhart bended Potter's hand back all the way and this elicited several more groans and a chuckle of Draco's amusement.

"...you can no longer feel any pain," Lockhart continued, "and, heh- very clearly, the bones are not broken."

"Broken?" Hagrid said. "There's no bones left!"

Potter's arm flipped back and Lockhart said, "He's much more flexible, though."

Draco snickered at that, and so did Theo.

Potter was going to have to regrow his bones meaning that he would have to stay in the Hospital Wing that night. So Draco figured that once everyone had gone to sleep, he would go there to confront the other boy about hearing voices.

However, when he got there, it seemed that someone else was already there. Draco quickly hid when he saw Dobby on Harry Potter's bed. Potter was clearly too distracted by Dobby, who had just told Potter that it was the house elf who'd closed the barrier at Kings Cross Station.

Draco drew curtains around a faraway bed and climbed in.

Dobby was saying, "At least you would be away from here. Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make Harry Potter see that-"

"Your Bludger?" Potter asked. Draco should've known. "You made that Bludger chase after me?"

"Dobby feels most aggrieved, sir. Dobby had to iron his hands."

This Draco had to see. He cautiously peeked out of the curtain. Dobby was holding up bandaged hands and Draco almost laughed because Potter was buying the "Dobby's miserable and not free" act.

"You'd better clear off before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you!" Potter said.

Dobby jumped off the bed and said, "Dobby is used to death threats sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home."

Draco snorted. Potter looked around. "What was that?" Potter shook his head and asked Dobby, "I don't suppose you could tell me why you're trying to kill me?" He got out of bed and walked towards Dobby who started backing up.

"Not kill you, sir, never kill you! Dobby remembers how it was before Harry Potter triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. We house elves were treated like vermin, sir. Of course, Dobby is still treated like vermin."

Dobby put his head in his hands and started sobbing and blowing his nose into his pillowcase.

"Why do you wear that thing Dobby?" Potter asked.

"This, sir? It is a mark of the house-elves' enslavement. Dobby can only be freed if his master presents him with clothes."

Draco shifted in his bed, making a noise and Dobby jumped Potter's.

"Ah! Listen. Listen! Terrible things are about to happen at Hogwarts. Harry Potter must not stay here, now that history is to repeat itself."

"Repeat itself? You mean this has happened before?"

Potter might not have caught on, but Draco knew right away that Dobby meant that the chamber of secrets had been opened before.

Dobby immediately made a show of self-punishment by hitting himself with a rolled-up newspaper while Potter tried - and finally succeeded - to stop him.

Potter grabbed Dobby by the pillowcase and said, "Tell me, Dobby. When did this happen before? Who's doing it now?"

"Dobby cannot say, sir. Dobby only wants Harry Potter to be safe."

Draco was happy that Dobby remembered not to tell Potter. He was aware that Dobby had overheard Draco's father one day and knew only that there was danger.

"No, Dobby," Potter insisted. "Tell me. Who is it?"

Dobby disapparated with a snap and Potter looked around. Suddenly there were footsteps. Potter quickly got back into bed, and Draco pulled the pillow over his head back in the bed he was occupying.

"Put him here. What happened?" Draco didn't recognize that voice but guessed that it must've been Madam Pomfrey.

"There's been another attack." That was clearly Dumbledore's voice.

"I think he's been Petrified, Madame Pomfrey." That was McGonagall. "Perhaps he managed to take a picture of his attacker."

The victim must've been that annoying first year with the camera who always followed Potter.

There was a bit of tinkering noise and then a _POOF!_ Draco could only imagine that the camera had exploded or something.

"What can this mean, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"It means that our students are in great danger."

Draco froze.

"What should I tell the staff?" McGonagall said.

Dumbledore answered, "The truth. Tell them Hogwarts is no longer safe. It is as we feared, Minerva. The Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again."

So Dobby was right. The question was who did it?

The moment the footsteps and voices were gone, Draco peeked out of the curtain to make sure no one was watching. Then he carefully made his way out of the Hospital Wing and back to the Slytherin common room.


	8. 8: The Dueling Club

"Gather around!"

Draco, along with Blaise, Theo, and Adrian, had signed up for the Dueling Club. Little did they know it was Lockhart who was running it.

"Can everybody see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!" Lockhart introduced the club, "In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves, as I myself have done on countless occasions- for full details, see my published works."

He tore off his cape and threw it to a group of gasping and squealing girls.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape."

Said assistant stepped onto the other side of the large dueling platform that Lockhart was already standing on. "He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry-you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear."

Draco rolled his eyes - Snape was way better than Lockhart could ever be. In fact, most of the students in the Great Hall were probably better than Lockhart.

Snape walked to the middle to meet Lockhart. The two raised their wands, then lowered them, bowing. Next, they walked to opposite sides of the platform and took stance.

"One, two, three!" Lockhart said.

Then as deliberately as possible, Snape said, "Expelliarmus!" Lockhart's wand flew to Snape while the wand's owner flew back even though he had ample time to deflect the spell.

Trying to cover up for his failure, Lockhart walked back to Snape saying, "An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind me saying, it was pretty obvious what you were about to do. And if I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy."

"Yeah, right, maybe for the rest of us," Draco muttered and his friends chuckled.

"Perhaps," Snape started, "it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, Professor."

"An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape! Ah... Let's have a volunteer pair! Um, Potter, Weasley, how about you?"

"Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox."

The Slytherins snickered and Potter climbed onto the platform.

Snape continued, "Might I suggest someone from my own house? Malfoy, perhaps?"

Draco was stunned and barely had enough time to react before Snape spun around and motioned him onto the platform. Draco put on a sneer and walked to meet Potter in the middle.

"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart called.

"Scared, Potter?" Draco said.

"You wish," came the reply.

The two boys walked to their respective places and got in their positions.

"On the count of three," Lockhart instructed, "cast your charms to disarm your opponent - only to disarm. We don't want any accidents here."

With Snape watching, this would not only be easy, but also a good time to try out the spell he'd learned on an actual person.

"One, two-"

"Everte statum!" Draco yelled and Potter flew back. Draco grinned, satisfied, and Crabbe let out a large laugh.

Potter got right back up and fired back a spell. "Rictusempra!"

However, before the curse could reach Draco, the latter deflected it by saying, "Expelliarmus!"

Potter's wand flew straight to Draco who threw it right back to continue the duel.

"Serpensortia!" Draco yelled and a snake emerged from his wand.

"Don't move, Potter," Snape said. "I'll get rid of it for you."

"Allow me, Professor Snape," Lockhart said. "Alarte ascendare!"

This only threw the snake up and back down, therefore, not working at all. Suddenly, Potter started speaking to the snake...in Parseltongue!

Everyone looked astonished as the snake moved towards...was it Flinch-Fletchy? It almost attacked him and then Draco saw Potter shake his head ever so slightly at the snake and then it stopped.

"Vipera evenesca," said Snape, and the snake disappeared.

"What are you playing at?" the almost-victim said.

Draco looked at Potter and saw him looking very confused. He must've been trying to get the snake to leave the other student alone.

Back in the common room, Draco was discussing the events with Blaise, Theo, and Adrian.

"He's a Parselmouth?" Theo asked.

"I suppose so," Blaise said.

"He looked like he had no idea what was going on, though," Draco observed.

"Maybe he's never spoken to a snake before," Adrian suggested.

"Maybe," Blaise said, "but then why was he egging the snake on?"

"He wasn't."

The others turned to Draco who explained, "I saw him shake his head at the snake right before it stopped going at that Flinch-Fletchy bloke. He was trying to stop it."

"Who was trying to stop what?"

The four boys turned to look at Pansy Parkinson, who'd just spoken, and her friends Milicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass.

"Lockhart was trying to stop the snake but he failed," Draco lied. Theo and Adrian looked at him curiously, but Blaise caught on immediately.

"Don't say that about him!" Pansy defended. "Professor Lockhart did his best."

"And Snape did better."

"Hmph!" She folded her arms and marched away, her two friends imitating her motions.

"Stuck-up thinks-she-knows-it-all," Draco muttered to his friends. "She like a dumb Granger."

The others laughed. "But seriously," Draco continued, "that's what I saw."

"You know what," Adrian said, "on the way here, I heard someone saying how Potter's the heir of Slytherin."

"What?" Draco said.

"Yeah, they think he is because he can talk to snakes. Since Slytherin could talk to snakes, only his heir could talk to snakes."

"Potter, the heir of Slytherin? That's complete rubbish!"

"I'm just relaying what I hear."

Draco was about to say that Potter couldn't be the true heir because the chamber had been opened before, but he remained quiet.

Just a minute! Couldn't Voldemort talk to snakes, too? Draco had heard his father mention it once. How old was Voldemort, anyway? Draco realized that he needed to see Dumbledore straight away. This information may or may not have crossed the old man's mind, but Draco had to make sure to did.


	9. 9: Chatting with Dumbledore

Draco practically raced to the Headmaster's office the next day after study hall. Only when he approached the gargoyle did he realize that he was unaware of the password.

He was about to guess "Hogwarts" when Professor McGonagall arrived with Potter.

"What is it, Mr. Malfoy?" the professor asked.

"I have to see Professor Dumbledore," he replied.

"I am afraid it will have to be done another time."

"This is important."

She sighed. "Very well." Turning to the gargoyle, she said, "Sherbet lemon."

Sherbet lemon? What kind of a password was that? Draco shook his head and followed Potter onto the stairs as the gargoyle spun.

When he entered through the door, Potter called, "Dumbledore?" There was no reply so he walked up to the Sorting Hat. Draco remained behind and pretended to take interest in a book.

"Bee in your bonnet, Potter?"

Draco whirled around to see the Sorting Hat in conversation with Potter.

The boy who'd been addressed replied, "I was just wondering if you'd put me in the right house."

"Yes, you were particularly difficult to place. But, I stand by what I said last year - you would have done well in Slytherin."

Draco's eyes widened. Potter was considered to be in Slytherin?

"You're wrong," the Gryffindor said. Suddenly, he turned his head to a red bird. Draco recognized this as a phoenix. Wait. Wasn't this the phoenix whose tail feather was currently in Draco's wand?

Then the bird caught fire, which caught Draco's attention, and he walked over to the bird.

"Harry? Draco?"

The two boys looked up to find Professor Dumbledore on a staircase.

"Professor!" Potter exclaimed. "Sir, your bird - there was nothing I could do. He just caught fire!"

"It's a phoenix, Potter," Draco told him.

"A what?"

"He's been looking dreadful for days," Dumbledore said. "Pity you had to see him on a burning day. Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. They burst into flame when it is time for them to die, and then they are reborn from the ashes."

Dust swirled around the pile of ashes and a gray bird lifted its head.

"Ah," Dumbledore admired, "fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, and their tears have healing powers."

The door burst open and in walked Hagrid. He said, "Professor Dumbledore, sir! Wait! Listen! Professor Dumbledore, sir, it wasn't Harry!"

"Hagrid-" the Headmaster tried.

"In fact, I'd be prepared ter swear it in front o' the Ministry of Magic!"

"Hagrid! Relax. I do not believe that Harry attacked anyone."

"Well, of course you don't, and...oh...oh, right. Well, I'll, um- hum. I'll just wait outside, then."

Draco chuckled at the big man's reaction. So that's why Potter was here - there's been another attack.

"You don't think it was me, Professor?" Potter asked.

"No, Harry. I do not think it was you. But I must ask you, is there something you wish to tell me?"

After a moment's hesitation, Potter answered, "No, sir. Nothing."

Dumbledore, looking disappointed, nodded, and said, "Very well, then. Off you go."

Potter shoved past Draco and left the office.

The Headmaster turned to Draco. "Now, is there something, _you_ wish to tell me?"

"Sir," Draco said, "there's loads I have to tell you. But I'm going to start with Potter. Judging by your face, I presume you understood that Potter wasn't being completely honest with you."

Surprise was written all over the older man's face. "Why, yes. Tell me, what is it that Harry should have told me?"

"He's been hearing voices. I overheard his friends and him discussing whether or not they should have told the truth about Potter hearing voices."

"And what did they think?"

"They thought that telling would've been a bad idea because as Granger put it, 'even in the Wizarding World, hearing voices isn't a good sign.'"

"Hmm. Well, I am glad that you have told me. Is there anything else? You said there were quite a bit of things you had to say."

"Well, hasn't the chamber been opened before?"

"Yes, I believe your parents were in school then."

"Was the culprit caught?"

"A falsely accused student had been expelled. He had a fascination with creatures that others did not. So there was a boy who sought him out and blamed him."

"Whatever happened to the student who got expelled?"

"I did not believe he was the attacker so I suggested that he work here."

"So it's Hagrid, then?"

Dumbledore smiled and said, "You are very clever, Draco. Might I ask why this is of interest to you?"

"Sir, not to ignore your question as I shall return to it later, but who accused Hagrid?"

Dumbledore's smile faded and he hesitated before replying, "Tom Riddle."

Suddenly, everything made sense.

"You mean Voldemort?" Draco asked.

Dumbledore frowned and looked up at Draco. "How do you know his true name?"

"My father isn't always as careful as he seems. He tries his best to make sure that I am not aware of what is going on, but I still find out some things. Are you aware that Dobby, our house elf, is on a mission to save Potter?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Well, anyway, he's not our house elf anymore, technically speaking. I freed him, but he still must behave as if he is ours because I asked him."

Draco explained the situation from earlier this summer then said, "It'd be best if you don't mention this to a single soul. Not even Dobby, because he will start talking."

"Of course, Draco. Now, I must ask you again. Why is the chamber of secrets of interest to you?"

"I think I have a faint idea of what's been going on. I don't why Potter can speak Parseltongue, but I know that Salazar Slytherin and Tom Riddle could speak it, too. I don't think Potter could be the heir of Slytherin because he was in the Hospital Wing when the boy with the camera was attacked."

"May I ask how you know that piece of information?"

So Draco explained everything (not just the Hospital Wing situation) and asked not to be expelled for being out of bed.

Dumbledore chuckled at this and said, "You have quite the sense of humor as well. So you are meaning to say that this monster which is in the chamber of secrets must be some sort of snake?"

"Why else would only Potter be able to hear it?"

"That is possible. If this creature has been Petrifying people, it could be killing them next."

Draco opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again to ask, "Was someone killed last time?"

Dumbledore looked at the floor and nodded. "Her name was Myrtle Henderson. She was a Muggle-born, therefore, a target."

"So whoever is doing this clearly hated Muggle-borns. Slytherin is the one who said his true heir would get rid of them, and Riddle and Potter are possible heirs. Obviously it's not Potter, but how can it be Riddle if he's in no state to do this?"

"You said there was a diary."

"Yes. Tom Riddle seems to be inside it. But unless I'm mistaken, diaries can't walk around Petrifying students."

"He seems to be inside it?"

"Like I said before, my father was writing in it and Tom Riddle wrote back."

"This diary is in the possession of Ginny Weasley, you say?"

"Yes, and I don't know if she's written in it yet, but there's a pretty good chance that she has."

"Draco, you've given me quite a bit to think about." The Headmaster rested his index finger on his chin.

"What do you do about this?"

"Didn't you say that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley would be visiting you with Polyjuice Potion?"

"Yes, er, if you expel them for that, you didn't hear it from me."

"Not to worry, my boy. You have helped me immensely. You may not know it, but you have. Off you go then, and if you need to return, you know the password."

"Of course. Thank you, Headmaster."

"No, Draco, thank _you_." The old man's eyes twinkled and Draco left the room.


	10. 10: Polyjuice Potion

Draco was back in the Necessity Room, and he'd just learned a spell that tied people up. The spell, _Incarcerous, _didn't prove difficult, and once again, he was able to tie up the dummies with ease.

Why is it that he was able to do such advanced spells so easily? Was it his special wand? Draco decided he would ask Dumbledore the next time he saw him.

* * *

The Christmas feast had ended a while ago and Crabbe and Goyle were yet to show up to the common room so Draco went to go look for them. He didn't have to go far. When he saw them, he called out, "Crabbe, Goyle! Where have you two been? Pigging out in the Great Hall all this time?"

When he got closer, he saw something odd about Goyle. "Why are you wearing glasses?"

"Uh, um, reading," Goyle answered as he put the glasses away.

"Reading? I didn't know you could read."

Goyle nodded that he could, and Draco just shrugged, turning to...

"What are you doing down here, Weasley?"

"Mind your attitude, Malfoy," the red-head warned.

Draco sneered at him and shoved past him.

In the common room, Draco flopped onto a sofa. There was definitely something odd going on since Crabbe and Goyle stood in front of him and did nothing.

"Well, sit down," Draco told them and they obeyed. Usually, they would go to their room and let Draco nap in peace instead of just standing there. And since when did Goyle own reading glasses?

Then it clicked; the Polyjuice potion must be done and currently in use. To test this theory, Draco said, "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave. They're an embarrassment to the Wizarding world. All of them."

He saw "Crabbe" clenching his fist. Aha! So he must be Weasley and "Goyle" must be Potter since he had glasses.

"What's wrong with you, Crabbe?" Draco asked, feigning ignorance.

Draco saw Goyle elbow Crabbe before the latter answered, "Stomachache."

"You know," Draco said, trying to get Potter/Goyle to say something, "I'm surprised that the Daily Prophet hasn't done a report on all these attacks. I suppose Dumbledore is trying to hush it all up. Father always said Dumbledore was the worst thing that ever happened to this place."

"You're wrong!" Potter/Goyle yelled.

Draco looked up at him, surprised he couldn't control himself. He got up and towered over the two Gryffindors. He had to get them to say more. "What? You think there's someone here who's worse than Dumbledore?"

Weasley/Crabbe shook his head so Draco turned to Potter/Goyle. "Well? Do you?"

"Harry Potter?" Potter/Goyle offered.

_Nice cover-up_, Draco thought. He said, "Good one, Goyle. You're absolutely right. Saint Potter. And people actually think that he's the Heir of Slytherin!"

"But then you must have some idea who's behind it all," Potter/Goyle said.

This was obviously Potter's voice.

"You know I don't, Goyle. I told you yesterday. How many times do I have to tell you? Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backwards." Draco said this fully aware that he hadn't spoken to Goyle on this matter and that he'd said that last sentence to Potter last year.

Just like he'd expected, Potter/Goyle's head shot up.

Draco continued, twisting some things. "But my father did say this - it's been fifty years since the Chamber was opened. He wouldn't tell me who opened it, but only that they were expelled. The last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So, it's only a matter of time before one of them is killed this time. As for me, I hope it's Granger."

Weasley/Crabbe rose and Potter/Goyle followed, just to stop the first.

"What's the matter with you two?" Draco asked. "You're acting very odd."

"It's his stomachache," Goyle replied.

Draco pretended to take interest in a nearby present as he heard Weasley whisper, "Scar!"

Potter whispered, "Hair!"

Draco knew that their time had run out and that they were going to bolt so he took out his wand, pointed at Potter, and said, "Incarcerous!" He repeated the spell on Weasley.

Then he stood and watched as they turned back into themselves. Both Gryffindors looked up at Draco in horror. The free boy smirked and took Potter's glasses from Goyle's robe's pocket.

He made a show of wanting to break them. "But then The Boy Who Lived to Eventually Die wouldn't be able to see." Draco made an exaggerated sad face before slipping the glasses on Potter's face.

"Listen up, you two. I don't care what you think, but the heir of Slytherin isn't in this school. There is no one in this school who could be the heir of Slytherin so stop playing hero. Also, have you heard of someone called Myrtle Henderson?"

"Why should we tell you?" Weasley asked.

"It's a simple yes or no question, for Merlin's sake!"

"We know of a Myrtle," Potter said. "Why do you care?"

"I've been asked about her," Draco lied. "Where is she now?"

"She's dead. She's a ghost that stalks a bathroom. What else do you want to know?"

"Potter, I'm not sure why you're answering me so easily."

"Just let us go, and we won't mention anything."

Draco mirthlessly laughed. "I can't be blackmailed. Why on earth does she stalk a bathroom?"

"We don't know."

"Tell me where it is."

"It's a girls' lavoratory!" Weasley cried.

"You've been in a girls' lavoratory?" Draco whistled.

"No one goes in there which is why we did," Potter answered.

"I suppose you made your Polyjuice Potion there?"

Stunned, the two of them could just nod.

"Tell me where it is and I'll let you go. I won't tell a soul about this."

So Potter reluctantly told Draco the location and Draco released the ropes. The next night, he went to the bathroom. He entered to find the whole place vacated. There was a circle of sinks and then an area with the stalls.

"Is Myrtle here?" Draco called uncertainly.

Suddenly there was a scream and a transparent girl swooped in front of him. She giggled and said, "I'm Moaning Myrtle. But no one's ever called me Myrtle after I became a ghost." She giggled some more and Draco became uncomfortable.

"Er, okay, what I want to ask you is how you died." Draco hoped to death (no pun intended) that the ghost didn't take any offense in that question.

"Oh! It was dreadful. It happened right here in this very cubicle. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in.

"Who was it?"

"I don't know. I was distraught! But they said something funny, a kind of made up language. And I realized it was a boy speaking, so I unlocked the door to tell him to go away and...I died.

"Just like that? How?"

"I just remember seeing a pair of great big yellow eyes...over there, by that sink."

Draco went to the sink and tried to turn the water on, but nothing happened. He looked more closely and saw a snake carved out of the metal attached to the sink. This was probably where the chamber was.

He turned to thank Myrtle. Normally, he wouldn't have done that, but he was afraid of offending her. Unfortunately, the ghost giggled and asked, "What's your name?"

"That's not important," Draco said.

"Well, you're far nicer that Harry."

"Potter?"

"The one with the scar."

"Does he come here often?"

Myrtle saw this differently and asked, "Are you interested in him?"

"What?! No! Just wondering how you knew him."

"Oh. He and his two friends were in here."

"Great, uh, look. I gotta go."

Suddenly, someone opened the main door and Draco quickly hid in a stall.


	11. 11: The Diary and the Snake

Someone stomped their way to the stalls and there was a large noise followed by a wail. Moaning Myrtle's wail. There were a few loud sobs and footsteps leading away.

Myrtle screamed and there was the sound of water sloshing. In the next minute, the whole bathroom was flooded. Draco was about to emerge from his stall and go back to the common room when the main door opened once more.

He heard Myrtle wail, "Come to throw something else at me?"

"Why would I want to throw something at you?" Draco recognized this voice as Potter's.

"Don't ask me! Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me."

"But it can't hurt if someone throws something at you," said what sounded like Weasley. "I mean, it'll just go right through you."

Draco almost snickered when he remembered: a), he was hiding in a stall in a girls' lavoratory, and b), this was Weasley.

"Sure!" Myrtle said sarcastically. "Let's all throw books at Myrtle because she can't feel it! Ten points if you get through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head!"

"But, who threw it at you, anyway?" Potter asked.

"I don't know. I didn't see them. I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell through the top of my head." She screamed and flew into her stall again.

Draco had now levitated himself while they were talking and could just barely see Potter walk over to a book on the floor and pick it up before leaving. Draco didn't need to see that book again because he was sure that the book was Tom Riddle's diary.

* * *

It was a Saturday, and although the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match would start in an hour, Draco had excused himself to the library to figure out what the monster was. He started by looking in the Magical Creatures Section and found _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._ After skimming for at least fifteen minutes, he found nothing. He kept looking for books and found _Most Macabre Monstrosities_ so he reached for it...and so did another hand.

Granger again. "Why do I keep crashing into you?" she groaned.

Draco ignored her and grabbed the book.

"Hey! I need that!"

"For what?" Draco asked. "Snooping?"

"Then what do _you_ need it for?"

"Life saving. Oh, wait. Your perfect friends told me to stop doing that. Oh well."

Draco walked away from her and sat down at one of the tables, flipping pages until her found something.

_Basilisk._

Draco had never heard of a Basilisk before, but before he could read on, he was interrupted again.

"What do you want?" Draco spat at her.

"Why are you reading that?"

"I don't need to explain reading to you."

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Since she wasn't going away, Draco asked her if she knew what a Basilisk was.

"A what?"

Draco read:

"_Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._"

"So is this what's been Petrifying things?" Granger asked.

"It seems so. I can't think of anything else."

"Well, I thought it would kill anyone that looked at it."

"None of the Petrified looked directly at it, did they? The cat saw the reflection and that camera chap saw it through the camera. I can't remember who else has been Petrified."

"So that's why Harry can hear the voice. The Basilisk is a snake."

"Good job, Granger. But how has it been getting around?"

"Hmm, it's got to be using the plumbing. There's no other way. Let me see the book again."

She went to snatch it from Draco.

"Ah-ah-ah. Hold it right there. I'm still looking. Spiders flee before it? That doesn't make sense."

"Before Harry, Ron, and I saw Flich's cat, there were many spiders heading out the window."

"Okay."

"What else did the book say?" She tried to snatch it again and grabbed one end of the book.

"Granger, if you don't stop, you're going to...rip it." Draco said the last two words after Granger had already done the action. The girl got out a quill and some ink, and wrote "pipes" on the page she'd torn out.

Suddenly, there was a hissing sound.

"Granger, quick!" Draco said. "Do you have a mirror?"

"A mirror?"

"Hurry! Use it to look around all corners."

When she'd found a mirror in her bag, she asked Draco, "What about you?"

"I'm going to hide." With that he left. He hid behind a bookshelf and when he carefully peeked, he saw a great snake slither out of a hole in the wall that wasn't there before. The Basilisk turned its head and Draco quickly closed his eyes and knelt so he couldn't be seen. Draco didn't know how much time had passed, but there was a clatter and a hiss before Draco got the courage to raise his head again. Thankfully, the snake had gone, but what stood in front of Draco was astounding.

Ginny Weasley was directly in front of the wall where the snake had disappeared and by the looks of it, the hole in the wall was gone too. And where exactly did Weaslette come from? He watched as she walked into the wall and was gone.

Draco blinked.

Then he blinked again.

Then he rubbed his eyes and found Granger sprawled across the floor, still as a statue, the mirror in one hand, the page clutched in the other. Quickly, he levitated the girl to the Hospital Wing.

Almost at once, Madam Pomfrey rushed forward to ask what had happened, and Draco, a hater of storytelling, had to explain. Soon after, Professor McGonagall came into the infirmary.

"Malfoy," she said, "what, may I ask, are you doing here?"

"I brought Granger in," Draco answered. "I expect they'll want to know what happened. If you'll excuse me now, I must go to the Quidditch game, where I have been this entire time!" Draco emphasized that last bit to ensure that McGonagall didn't repeat anything to Potter and his pet.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy," the professor started, "I'm afraid that there will be no more Quidditch matches seeing as this is much more serious than we thought. Now, I suggest that you go up to your common room and wait for further instructions."

Draco nodded, but then double back as was about to leave the infirmary. "Cancel Quidditch?"

"I am sorry Mr. Malfoy, but this has been going on for far too long."

Draco merely nodded and headed to the common room.


	12. 12: The Rooster

Professor Snape had just announced the new school rules, and Draco had received word that his father was here to have Dumbledore step down from his post as Headmaster. Snape had also told him that Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was taking Hagrid to Azkaban.

Draco didn't know what he could possibly do. All he knew is that he wasn't getting a rooster anytime soon.

But what if he transfigured one? That would certainly save him some time. Unfortunately, he could not exit the common room as it was past "curfew" now so he took a nap...

...which led to him waking up the next morning. There were classes today, but during study hall, the students were led to the library so Draco took this as an opportunity to sneak off to the Necessity Room. He only had forty-five minutes to figure out how to turn something into a rooster, and then keep it quiet until it was time to go down into the chamber.

Damn. That was another problem: he had no idea how to get the chamber to open, so knowing where it was wouldn't do him any good. He'd have to think that out later.

First, he found a book on transfiguring objects into animals. This was supposedly too difficult for a second-year, but apparently even more so because unless one was exceptionally old and skilled, something that looked like the animal was needed.

What looked like a rooster? Those things on people's houses, what were they? These things spun in the wind. Weather vanes!

Draco closed his eyes and thought, _I need a rooster weather vane_. He thought this three times while pacing and when he opened his eyes, there was what he had asked for.

Looking back at the book, he learned that the incantation for turning the inanimate animal into a real animal was _Ita esse._ This needed to be said with great force and concentration, and Draco would have to picture the rooster in his head while jabbing his wand at the object just once.

"Okay," he said to himself, "here goes nothing...but my hope."

Draco took a deep breath, imagined a real rooster, and struck his wand at the weather vane, saying, "Ita esse!"

It took five whole seconds for the object to morph into the real creature, but once it did, Draco had to cover his ears.

"I thought roosters only cried out in the mornings!" He exclaimed as he tried to remember the silencing charm. He pointed at the rooster to say it, but the animal jumped out of reach.

"Stupid thing!" Draco said as he tried to chase the rooster and capture it.

Back to the books. Draco tried looking for some way to summon the rooster to him, then capture it.

"Charms, I need charms..." he looked through the charms section to find _Simple Charms for your Daily Use._ Thankfully, the book was in alphabetical order (that seemed to be a thing), and he didn't have to search much before finding "Accio", the Summoning charm. Draco said the spell with a strong willingness for the object, then "rooster". Almost at once, the rooster came flying at him.

"Bloody chicken!" he yelled, but it was off again somewhere. Draco turned his attention to looking for capturing spells, but there was none in the charms book. He thought about using _Incarcerous_ to tie up the bird, but that would only end up killing it. So similar spells must've been in the Transfiguration section.

After what seemed like ten minutes, he found a spell literally meant for capturing and summoned the bird to him. When the rooster came flying with a screech, Draco thrust his wand forward and said, "Incarcifors!"

The bird was now in a cage similar to Draco's owl cage, but it was still noisy, so Draco silenced it with "Silencio".

Draco sat down on the hard floor on let out a sigh of relief. He couldn't help but wonder why such hard magic was so easy for him. He had to see Dumbledore about that, but first he had to sort out the rooster problem. He looked back at the rooster whose beak kept opening and closing, but no sound was coming. He undid the charm for just a second, and had to cover his ears again. Finally, he exited the Necessity Room with a silent and caged rooster. What a normal sight.

Draco crept down to the dungeons and hid the rooster behind his bed in his room before heading back to the library. He had no idea what time it was, but he hoped that he wasn't late.

Whoops. As he entered the library, he came face to face with the Head of Gryffindor House.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Draco nonchalantly greeted, as though he hadn't just battled a monstrous bird.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," the professor replied. "May I ask why you just entered the library by yourself twenty minutes after the end of study hall?"

"I...was...somewhere...else..." Draco said, trailing off.

"I see. Detention tonight, at six o'clock. I expect you'll be there accompanied by a professor."

"Yes, ma'am," Draco said.

However, when it was time for Draco to leave, there was an announcement:

"All students are to return to their house dormitories at once. All staff to the second floor corridor, immediately."

Second floor? Draco _immediately_ left the common room unnoticed to go to the second floor. When he got there, he noticed Potter and Weasley hiding behind a wall. He could see them and the staff clearly, but neither party could see Draco.

"As you can see," Professor McGonagall was saying, "the Heir of Slytherin has left another message. Our worst fear has been realized. A student has been taken by the monster into the Chamber itself. The students must be sent home. I'm afraid this is the end of Hogwarts."

In strolled Lockhart, saying, "So sorry- dozed off- what have I missed?"

"A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart," Snape said. "Your moment has come, at last."

"My moment?"

"Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"Well, that's settled," McGonagall said. "We'll leave you to deal with the monster, Gilderoy. Your skills, after all, are legend."

After spending a moment being flustered, Lockhart answered, "Very well- ah- I'll just be in my office getting, um- getting ready."

Like hell he was. He was probably going to escape. He left, and then Draco heard Madam Pomfrey ask who'd been taken.

"Ginny Weasley," said McGonagall.

Draco saw Potter and Weasley's eyes grow wide. When the staff had all gone, Weasley read out what Draco couldn't see: "Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever."

"We have to go see Lockhart," Potter told his friend, and the two of them rushed off.

Draco knew that the two Gryffindors would go with Lockhart, and since Potter could speak Parseltongue, he could open the chamber. Potter and Weasley probably knew where the chamber was, so that left rooster retrieving to Draco.


	13. 13: Into the Chamber

Harry and Ron raced down to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, taking Lockhart with them. When they got there, Myrtle was, well, moaning. She saw them and said, "Who's there? Oh! Hello, Harry!" That was too flirtatious for Harry's comfort.

"Ron," the ghost acknowledged next, in a bored voice. "What do you want?" This was addressed to the two of them.

"To ask you how you died," Harry replied.

"Oh!" she squealed. "The most handsome boy asked me that not too long ago."

Harry frowned (at the fact that someone else might've known what was going on, not the "most handsome" part) and asked, "Who was it?"

"I don't know. He didn't say his name. Anyway, my death was dreadful!" Myrtle proceeded to tell them the exact story she'd told Draco, who by now, had appeared in the lavoratory with the silenced rooster still moving its beak.

Draco was smirking; the ghost, although she was creepy, had called him the most handsome boy. After she was done with her story, she floated away, moping.

Potter started examining the sink that Moaning Myrtle had pointed to and after a moment, he said, "This is it. This is it, Ron. I think this is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets."

Weasley replied, "Say something. Harry, say something in Parseltongue!"

So Potter did, and all of the sinks split apart, the one with the engraved snake sinking below the floor.

"Excellent, Harry," Lockhart said. "Haa! Good work! Well then, I'll just be, ah...there's no need for me to stay." He made a beeline for the exit to the bathroom, but the two Gryffindors blocked him.

"Oh, yes there is!" Potter said. The two of them pointed their wands at Lockhart as Potter said, "You first."

"Now, boys what good will it do?"

"Better you than us," Weasley said.

Unsure, Lockhart slowly turned around. "Sure you don't want to test it first?" he asked, but Weasley shoved him down the...whatever it was that Draco couldn't see from his hiding place.

Seconds later, Lockhart could be heard saying, "It's really quite filthy down here."

Potter said, "Alright. Let's go."

"Oh, Harry?" Three heads snapped to see Myrtle floating in front of her stall. "If you die down there, you're welcome to share my toilet."

Draco lost it. Fortunately, he was capable of controlling his laughter so that it wouldn't be heard.

Potter mumbled a "thanks" and jumped in, Weasley in tow. Draco rushed forward, held the cage in front of him, and followed.

He laughed as the two Gryffindors screamed their heads off. When he got out, Potter and Weasley, who were pointing their wands at Lockhart, spun around to see him.

"Uh, Lockhart, you're right," Draco said as he got up from the bone-scattered floor. "This place _is _filthy."

"You?" Weasley stepped forward accusingly.

"Yes, me. I've known about this for about, I don't know, a few months, perhaps?"

"Of course! You're the heir of Slytherin, aren't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley. If I was the heir, I would've known for longer than that. Also, I wouldn't be trying to fix this." Draco was counting the reasons on his fingers and after a short pause, he added, "And I can't talk to snakes."

"He's lying!"

"I guess now wouldn't be a good time to mention that I was in the library with Granger before she was Petrified."

"I told you!"

"Relax. I didn't do anything to her. I'm the one who found the book about the Basilisk. She, on the other hand, just tore the page out. In all honesty, I save her life by telling her to get the mirror. By the way, Weasley, your sister's the heir."

"WHAT?!"

"Wait," Potter said. "What did you say?"

Draco said, "You heard me. Well, I don't know if she's the heir. I think she's just been possessed...which is why we should get going."

"Now remember," Potter said, "any sign of movement, close your eyes straightaway."

"That doesn't stop the snake from eating us," Draco drawled.

The group came across a snakeskin.

"Bloody hell," Weasley said. "Whatever shed this must be sixty feet long - or more!"

Suddenly, Lockhart fainted, but being a Slytherin, Draco could see an act from a mile away.

"Heart of a lion, this one," Weasley nodded to the professor who grabbed Weasley's wand and pointed it at him.

"The adventure ends here, boys," Lockhart said. "But don't fret. The world will know our story. How I was too late to save the girl. How you three tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body."

"Actually," Draco started, "no one would believe that I went all mental because of a Weasley's dead body."

"Shut it!" Weasley said.

"What? I didn't say you'd be the one to die."

"So, you first, Mr. Potter," Lockhart said. "Say good-bye to your memories. Obliviate!"

Draco had forgotten that spells cast using Weasley's wand had a tendency to backfire on the caster.

The ground started to rumble. The ceiling started to shake. Rocks started falling everywhere and before long, Potter many rocks had blocked three of the group from Potter.

"Harry! Harry!" Weasley called out.

"Ron!" came the response. "Ron, are you ok?"

"I'm fine!"

Draco turned his attention to Lockhart who'd just said hello to Draco.

"Who are you?" the former professor asked.

"Um...Ron Weasley," the red-head answered uncertainly.

"Really? And uh, who- who am I?"

"Lockhart's memory charm backfired," Weasel told Potter. "He hasn't got a clue who he is!"

"It's an odd sort of place this, isn't it?" Lockhart spoke to the two boys in front of him. Picking up a rock, he asked, "Do you live here?"

"Do I look like I live here?" Draco said.

"I don't live here," Weasley said, taking the rock from Lockhart and smacked the memory-less man's head with it.

"What do I do now?" Weasley called to Potter.

"You wait here and try and shift some of this rock so we can get back through. I'll go on and find Ginny!"

Draco immediately began to sort through the rock problem when he remembered the rooster. Where did he leave it? Didn't he jump with it?

"You!" He pointed at Weasley. "Do what Potter said. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going? I always knew Slytherins were cowards."

Draco spun around, went up to Weasley and struck his fist in the red-head's face. Then in pure Malfoy fashion, he left without a word as the other boy moaned in pain. He could give Myrtle Henderson a run for her money...if creepy dead girls had money.

Draco made it back to the slide, but he couldn't find the rooster anywhere. Potter could be dead right now, and Dumbledore would blame him. He was about to climb the slide (though he didn't know how) when Fawkes, the phoenix, flew out, carrying the sorting hat.

"What the-" was all Draco had time to saw before the hat crashed into his face, sending Draco to the ground.

"Ugh!" Draco groaned in disgust as he wiped the skeletal germs off his robes. He turned around to give the bird a good curse, but it was gone with the hat.

"Accio rooster in cage!" he called.

Why didn't he do that before?

The moment the cage flew into his hand, he set off for the room with Weasley and Lockhart in it. When he got there, there was a big enough whole for a bird to safely fly through, so Weasley must have had perfect timing.

"Why do you have a rooster in a cage?" the read-head asked when he saw Draco.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Draco said coldly as he began to levitate rocks and set them aside.

"I just spent at least ten minutes doing heavy lifting," Weasley said, "and you're levitating them?"

"You've got a broken wand."

"Right."

As awkwardly as possible, the two removed rocks - Draco, magically; Weasley, manually - until Draco accidentally levitated Weasley instead of the rock he was aiming at because the red-head had to get in the way.

"Put me down!" he cried. So Draco dropped him, and left him in pain as he continued to work on the rocks.

"You know," Draco started, "you should probably see Madam Pomfrey when you get out of here."

"Thanks for the much-needed advice," the other boy groaned.

"Get up," Draco ordered when he was finished.

"What?" Weasley had fallen asleep.

"Get up. Take care of Lockhart, will you?"

"Wait, where are you going?"

"To save Potter."

"I'm coming. You're probably going to try to kill him."

Draco just waved his wand and said, "Petrificus Totalus." Then he walked off to find The Boy Who Might Die Even Though His Possible Saviour Couldn't Care Less.


	14. 14: Savior of the Savior

Draco entered a room with a long, straight path down the middle with rows of large snake statues on either side. As quietly as possible, Draco walked down to the area where a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy was watching the Basilisk attack Potter.

Potter was standing on the head of a man's statue, holding a sword. The serpent seemed to be shoving its head blindly in the direction of the second-year, but as the snake finally made contact with its target, Draco could see one of the Basilisk's fangs getting stuck in Potter's arm while he lost his balance and accidentally released the sword.

_Time for action_, Draco thought, but didn't dare voice.

He undid the silencing charm on the rooster, but nothing happened. The rooster was asleep! This definitely wasn't normal rooster behavior (to the extent of his knowledge). He jabbed at the bird and whispered, "Rennervate."

Instantly, the bird awoke and started squawking. Potter and the other boy both turned to look at Draco who said, "Sorry, he's been sleeping all day."

Suddenly, there was a loud screech-moan-whimper-groan from the monster of the Chamber of Secrets. The Basilisk's head flopped around and finally hit the floor with a thud.

The oldest boy was definitely furious. He glared at Draco, was silencing the rooster, and then at Potter, who had pulled the fang out of his arm and was kneeling in pain by Weaslette.

"Remarkable isn't it," the oldest boy said, "how quickly the venom of the basilisk penetrates the body? I'd guess you have little more than a minute to live. You'll be with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry."

Mudblood? Was this Tom Riddle?

"Funny," Riddle continued, "the damage a silly little book can do...especially in the hands of a silly, little girl."

Upon hearing this, Potter took the book from the ginger girl's hands and opened it.

"What are you doing?" Riddle asked Potter. The youngest boy raised the Basilisk fang and when Riddle ordered him to stop, he stabbed the empty diary with the fang.

Light emerged from where Riddle's heart was. He cried in pain, and when Potter stabbed the next page, Riddle screamed in agony as the light encased him. Finally, Potter closed the book and stabbed the cover. Riddle burst into bright white light and exploded.

Weaslette suddenly opened her eyes, gasping. The girl got up and faced Potter, who was crouched down and was wincing.

"Harry," she started, "it was me - but I swear, I didn't mean to! Riddle made me, and...Harry, you're hurt!"

"Don't worry. Ginny, you need to get yourself out. Follow the Chamber, and you'll find Ron."

Draco picked up the sword and stabbed the giant snake in the head just for the heck of it.

Fawkes the phoenix flew into view and perched next to Potter.

"You were brilliant, Fawkes," the boy said, "I just wasn't quick enough." Just as Draco didn't expect, the bird began to cry, and these tears were healing Potter.

"Of course!" Potter exclaimed. "Phoenix tears have healing powers. Thanks!" After reassuring the ginger that everything would be alright, Potter led the way back to where Weasel and Lockhart were.

Weasel first saw Potter, who walked in first, and exclaimed, "Harry! You're okay!" After a gasp, he said, "Ginny!" and hugged his sister. It seemed that Lockhart was still as clueless as he was before (he'd finally woken up from Weasel's sharp blow with the rock). Also, everyone ignored Draco and the rooster. Why, considering they'd saved the day, Draco didn't know.

This turned out to be a problem when Fawkes carried Lockhart and the three Gryffindors, all of them clinging tightly to each other, and flew out of the chamber. Draco was left walking back to the tunnel through which he'd slid to enter the chamber.

Now how to get out? Simple...or so he thought.

At first, he tried using some sharp bones as claws to help him up the slippery slide, but they weren't sticking to the hardened cement. After his fifth try, he resorted to using magic, which he should've done in the first place.

He lied down on the bottom of the slide, shoes over the edge, and yelled, "Ascendio!"

To his delight, it worked!...except for the fact that he only rose about ten feet, and the slide was obviously much longer than that. So Draco fell again and was back on the ground.

He trudged back over to where he threw down his sharp bones before returning to the slide.

"Here goes nothing," Draco muttered to himself as he lied down on the slide again, "except perhaps a few of my own bones."

"Ascendio!" he shouted, and he rose, but when he was about to fall, Draco stuck the bone-claw he was holding into the cement. Even though the bone-claw didn't go in, it gave him enough time to repeat the spell, thus lifting him once more.

After a series of clawing and spell repetition, he flew into the door to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Groaning, he clutched his head, which had experienced impact.

"Stupid lying credit-takers," Draco said, regarding Potter and Weasley, and rushed out of the lavoratory.

* * *

"You both realize, of course, that in the past few hours you have broken perhaps a dozen school rules?"

"Yes, sir," Harry and Ron ceremoniously mumbled to their Headmaster, who'd finally returned.

"And there is sufficient evidence to have you both expelled."

"Yes, sir."

"Therefore, it is only fitting, that you both receive fifty points apiece for Gryffindor."

The boys' eyes grew wide.

"Thanks, sir!" Ron said, being the first of the two second-years to recover from the shock of being rewarded instead of punished.

"And now, Mr. Weasley, if you would, have an owl deliver these release papers to Azkaban? I believe we want our gamekeeper back."

Ron nodded and left the office. Dumbledore turned to Harry. "First, I want to thank you, Harry. You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you. And, second, I sense that something is troubling you. Am I right, Harry?"

The boy nodded. "It's just...you see, sir I - I couldn't help but notice certain things, certain - certain similarities, between Tom Riddle and me."

"I see. Well, you can speak Parseltongue, Harry. Why? Because Lord Voldemort can speak Parseltongue. If I'm not mistaken, Harry, he transferred some of his powers to you the night he gave you that scar."

"Voldemort transferred some of his powers...to me?"

"Not intentionally, but yes."

"So the Sorting Hat was right! I should be in Slytherin."

"It's true, Harry. You possess many of the qualities that Voldemort himself prizes. Determination, resourcefulness, and if I may say so, a certain disregard for the rules. Why then did the Sorting Hat place you in Gryffindor?"

"Because I asked it to."

"Exactly, Harry! Exactly! Which makes you different from Voldemort. It is not our abilities that show what we truly are. It is our choices. Not that there's anything wrong with being a Slytherin, of course. I mean choices in regards to other things."

Harry nodded and his headmaster continued, "If you want proof why you belong in Gryffindor, then I suggest that you look more closely at this." He lifted the sword given to Harry by the Sorting Hat.

Harry read the inscription on the blade aloud, "Godric Gryffindor."

"It would take a true Gryffindor to pull that out of the hat," Dumbledore said.

* * *

Draco was about to go up to the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore' office when he saw none other than his father and Dobby do exactly what he was going to do!

"Sherbet lemon," he heard his father say, and in a moment, they were gone.

So Draco made the decision to stay in hiding until they'd come back out and left the school.

* * *

Just then, the door flew open, and in walked Lucius Malfoy followed by Dobby.

"So this is your master!" Harry exclaimed. "The family you serve is the Malfoys." He noticed a pained look cross Dobby's elfish features.

"I'll deal with you later," Mr. Malfoy said to his house-elf. Walking up to Dumbledore, and shoving Harry out of the way, he said, "So, it's true - you have returned!"

"When the governors learned that Arthur Weasley's daughter was taken into the Chamber, they saw fit to summon me back."

"Ridiculous!"

"Curiously, Lucius, several of them were under the impression that you would curse their families, if they did not agree to suspend me in the first place."

"How dare you!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"My sole concern has always been, and will always be, the welfare of this school and, of course," he turned to Harry, "its students. The culprit has been identified, I presume?"

"Oh, yes," Dumbledore responded.

"And? Who was it?"

After sharing a look with Harry, the Headmaster answered, "Voldemort."

"Ah."

"Only, this time, he chose to act through somebody else, by means of this." He showed Mr. Malfoy Tom Riddle's diary.

"I see."

Dobby whimpered and tugged on Harry's arm, motioning toward Mr. Malfoy, then the diary.

"Fortunately, he was discovered. One hopes that no more of Lord Voldemort's old school things should find their way into innocent hands. The consequences for the one responsible would be severe."

"Well, let us hope that Mr. Potter will always be around to save the day."

Harry was about to reveal that it was Draco who'd killed the Basilisk, and even stabbed its dead body for fun, but with a look from Dumbledore, Harry answered with, "Don't worry. I will be."

Lucius nodded towards Dumbledore as he prepared to leave. "Come, Dobby. We're leaving." He kicked the house-elf ahead of him, and by the time Dobby was up, his master (or so Harry thought) was prodding him in the back with his staff.

The door shut behind them and Harry felt sorry for the poor creature. Putting the sword of Gryffindor down, he asked, "Sir, I was wondering if I could have that," and motioned to the diary.


	15. 15: Merlin's Wand

Draco discreetly watched as his father strode down the hall.

"Mr. Malfoy!" someone called. Soon, Draco saw Potter running after his father.

"Mr. Malfoy, I have something of yours." Potter handed the stabbed diary to Lucius.

"Mine? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do, sir. I think you slipped the diary into Ginny Weasley's cauldron, that day at Diagon Alley."

"You do, do you?" Draco's father passed the book to Dobby and stepped closer to Potter. "Why don't you prove it?" He sneered, and turned, saying, "Come, Dobby."

"Open it," Potter said to Dobby, regarding the diary. Dobby did and his eyes widened when he saw what looked like socks from Draco's point of view.

Suddenly, the elf's eyes wandered over Draco's hiding spot. Draco held his finger up to his lips, and scooted further behind the torch stand.

"Dobby!" Lucius called again.

"Master has given Dobby a sock!"

"What? I didn't give-"

"Master has presented Dobby with clothes!" Holding up the sock, he said, "Dobby is free!"

Draco watched as Potter pulled up his pant leg to reveal the lack of a sock on his foot.

"You've lost me my servant!" Lucius yelled in rage. He pulled his wand out of his walking stick and marched towards The Boy Who Lived To Possibly Die At The Hands Of His School Enemy's Father.

"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" Dobby said defiantly.

"Avada-" Draco's eyes widened at the curse his father was using when Dobby...did something...and Draco's father flew back.

"Your parents were meddlesome fools, too," Lucius spat. "You mark my words, Potter, one day soon you are going to meet the same sticky end!"

He angrily left the hall, and Dobby told Potter, "Harry Potter freed Dobby! How can Dobby ever repay him?"

_Nice acting,_ Draco thought.

"Just promise me something," Potter said.

"Anything, sir!"

"Never try to save my life again."

Soon they were on their way as well, and Draco made it up the stairs to Dumbledore's office. When he entered, he looked around for the old man and found him sitting at his desk.

"Ah, Draco," he began, "I've been expecting you. I've already gotten a full account of what has happened, including your clever rooster trick, but why don't you retell me to make sure I haven't a reason to expel you."

Draco's jaw dropped, but the old man merely chuckled. "Only joking about expulsion, Draco. But do tell the story, even though I know how much you dislike it."

Draco told him everything he had learned after their last meeting all the way up to getting out of the chamber by himself and what he saw his father try to do outside the office.

Dumbledore said, "Why didn't you come by Fawkes?"

"He was carrying the others, and they all left before I could do anything. Besides, I wasn't about to cling to Weasle-ah, Ginny Weasley."

"I see. Well, normally, I would award you for Services to the School, but you and I both know how bad an idea that would be. However, I can promise to get you a plaque in the trophy room once this whole Voldemort ordeal has been sorted out."

"I suppose that'll be alright. I don't really care about awards, though, to be honest. It's not my favorite way of bringing attention to myself."

"Draco Malfoy doesn't want attention?"

"Of course not, sir. But one must sacrifice certain things for the greater good."

At these words, Dumbledore flinched and went silent.

"Sir?" Draco prompted.

"Draco, I hope you realize how Gryffindor you sound."

"No, I don't. I'm doing this so I can be at peace. Besides, I'm exasperated with how everyone hates Slytherin and love Gryffindor. On the first day of school, as I was walking to the Slytherin table after my sorting, I heard Weasley tell Potter that there wasn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."

"That is not true at all."

"Exactly, but I think Weasley's head is too thick for that knowledge to penetrate through."

Dumbledore chuckled. Clearing his throat, he said, "I also must make sure you understand that sacrifice is not always good. In fact, I believe that most of the time sacrifices made are not worth it."

"Of course, sir. I wouldn't sacrifice anything in the world for anything else in the world. It just seemed like a clever thing to say at the moment."

"I must tell you, Draco, that you share many similarities with two people I've come to know."

"Who would they be?"

"Professor Snape and myself."

Draco was stunned. That was an enormous compliment. "Thank you, sir."

"Now, there is nothing to thank me for. Thank yourself."

"Thank me, Draco."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with merriment. "Now, I presume there is something more you wish to ask me about?"

"Why can I do any sort of magic without too much practice, or any at all, actually?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "Before you received your wand at Ollivander's wand shop, Ollivander's memory was altered."

"How so?"

"That wand of yours does not just have the same wood as Merlin's wand does. Your wand _is_ Merlin's old wand."

Draco gaped at him, thus allowing the old man to continue.

"When Merlin was on his deathbed, he asked his twin sister to pass it on to his true heir."

"This is much too familiar for my liking."

"You need not worry; Merlin believed his wand was extraordinary and chose to pass it on rather than have it buried with him."

"But why was I chosen as his heir?"

"It all comes down to potential. If that wand had gone to anyone with less potential, he or she would not have acquired the same results as you have."

"So I'm a good wizard, but this wand just makes things easier for me?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

"I believe so."

"Alright, well, thanks for the help."

Draco turned to leave but had a few more questions, "Sir, at the wand shop, were you just playing along with Ollivander? Who wiped his memory? And I thought you said that Fawkes provided the core for my wand."

"Yes, I was playing along, and it was I who wiped his memory. I knew that Merlin's heir would be attending Hogwarts that year. When your father said you hadn't been able to show signs of magic, I was sure of what wand you would receive because there was a spell that would not allow the wand's true owner to perform any sort of magic until provided the wand. As for Fawkes, he used to belong to Merlin's sister. He was passed down to me."

"Complex."

"Indeed."

"Alright, well, I suppose that'll be all."

This time, Draco did leave.


	16. 16: The Malfoys' Unknown Secret

Draco Flooed home from Kings' Cross Station and went straight to his room to unpack his belongings. He couldn't stand having a dirty room with things strewn all over, but he didn't want to clean it, either. He took out his wand and let it do the work. Thankfully, his family was pureblooded or the Ministry would have tracked the magic down and have had Hogwarts expel him.

Merlin's wand. There was no way he could tell anyone about this. No one would believe him, and those who did would chase after it.

He headed downstairs for dinner and saw his father pacing in the living room while his mother sat on a large black leather sofa.

Entering the room, he asked his mother, "Where's Dobby? I'm starving."

_Good one, Draco. Point for you._

Lucius halted mid-step and turned to face his son.

"Dobby is no longer our house elf," he simply stated.

Frowning, Draco asked, "What do you mean?"

"He has been freed."

"Surely you didn't free him!"

"No, but you pathetic classmate Potter did."

Draco's eyes widened on their own as he acted like Potter had killed ten monkeys with a poisoned banana. "How? No one but you can free him."

"Potter put his sock in that diary I was telling you about and gave it to me. I did not care for such a filthy thing any longer, so I handed the diary to Dobby. When Dobby opened the book, he found the sock."

Draco screwed up his face in false rage as he tried his best not to feel relieved. "How dare he! How did he know Dobby, anyway?"

"I am not sure, but I have reason to believe that Dobby has been disobeying us."

"So that's why he tried to iron his hands before the Parkinsons came to dinner," Draco lied.

"What?"

"Dobby had been missing and then when I found him, he was attempting to iron his hands. However, I stopped him in case that would affect the food he made."

"Foolish elf. If it hadn't been for him, I would've killed Potter."

"What?" Draco had been preparing for this.

"I have no reason to explain myself to you."

"When was this?"

"After Potter freed Dobby, right outside Dumbledore's office."

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!" Draco didn't have to act that; he was just reacting later and to his father.

"Do not raise your voice at me!"

"You tried to kill the Boy Who Lived in front of the Headmaster's office! You could have gone to Azkaban!"

"It's better than having Potter alive, isn't it?"

"No! I'd rather have Potter alive than you in Azkaban."

That was when it happened - Lucius started glowing blue. A horizontal bar of light **(A/N: a bar the size of one of those that the security people check you with)** scanned the man's body, and said body automatically brightened.

The glow and bar of light disappeared as Lucius was thrown into the air and fell to the ground. Draco could've sworn that he'd heard a few bones crack.

"Father?" he said tentatively.

Lucius slowly opened and rubbed his eyes before blinking quite a few times.

"Draco? Narcissa?"

Both of the addressees were now kneeling beside the blonde man. Carefully, he sat up straight and shook his head a few times.

"Lucius, what's the matter?"

"I- I- I'm not quite sure."

"Father, what happened to you?"

"I can't remember."

"What is it you don't remember, Lucius?"

"I remember everything except for why I behaved so horribly this past decade and a half. Ahh!" He clutched his head and moaned in pain before blacking out and crumbling to the ground.

"Father?"

"Draco, we must get him to the bed in his room." Draco led the way while Narcissa levitated her husband and set him on the bed.

"Draco, I will figure something out for him in the kitchen. In the meantime, please stay here and watch him."

Draco pulled up an arm chair and sat down, determined not to fall asleep.

* * *

_Lucius would not work for _**him **_any longer. _**He **_was a half-blood and _**he **_had no business ordering around a pureblood from one of the oldest and wealthiest families in the Wizarding World. This was why he made the stupid decision to confront _**him **_about his blood status._

_He touched his mark and summoned _**him**_, and he was there, within minutes._

_"Something is troubling you, Lucius," _**he**_spoke. _**His**_voice was normal, not the scratchy voice Lucius would hear in about a decade and a half._**He **_was still human, unlike the desperate creature_ **he** _would soon become._

_"There is something," Lucius replied._

_"Well, go on. Don't ask for my permission."_

_"I would never stoop so low as to ask your permission."_

**His **_eyes narrowed,_**his **_eyebrows swooped down,_**his **_lips thinned, and _**his **_jaw clenched as _**he **_demanded, "What did you just say?", but Lucius did not flinch away from his "master" in the least._

_"I'll have you know that I am higher up in society than you. I, unlike you, am a pureblood. You, on the other hand, have a Muggle father, yet you demand for Muggle and Mudblood execution. You are nothing but a hypocrite. How dare you expect me to bow down to you? Malfoys serve no one!"_

_"WOULD YOU PREFER THAT I KILL YOU AND YOUR WIFE?!"_

_"You would never kill me - I am too important, with my social status and wealth."_

_"You are, of course, correct. Therefore, other measures must be taken. Imperio!"_

_Lucius's eyes went black as onyx. Obeying _**him**_, who Lucius heard inside his head, he kneeled on the ground and said "All hail, the Dark Lord!" three times before sitting down cross-legged._

_"Very good," his master said. "Wormtail!"_

_An short, ugly man with a somewhat deformed face stepped into the room, trembling. "Y-yes, master?"_

_"Go to Severus's personal potions cupboard in his home and make sure you are not seen. Select the potion the color of blood. If I am correct, Severus arranges his potions in alphabetical order, so it should be labeled with "Imperius Potion". Do not fail me. Go now."_

_Within moments, the former Gryffindor (which Lucius could not believe when he still had his mind as the pudgy man was still a cowardly boy) returned with said potion._

**He **_took the potion for his servant and unscrewed the lid to the bottle, sniffing the __blood-red __liquid._ _Plucking a few hairs from _**his**_ head, _ **he** _dropped them in the potion to ensure that Lucius answered to_ **him** _and only _**him**_, even when _**he**_ did not directly speak to or see his Lucius._

**He **_ordered Lucius to come forth and handed him the potion, commanding him to drink it all. Smiling evilly,_ **he**_ lifted the Imperius Curse from the blond man._

_"Do a handstand,"_ **he** _barked. Lucius obliged._

_Mission complete. Lucius was ready to be at_ **his **_beck and call. Even better, there was no antidote to the Imperius Potion. The potion's effects would only be undone when either Lucius or_ **he **_died._ **He** _had nothing to worry about since if Lucius died, it would be when he was old, and his children would always take over. Of course,_ **he **_wouldn't die. _**He **_would never die._

_Just in case,_ **he** _shoved the memory of what had just happened far back into Lucius's head._ **He** _didn't obliviate him. Obliviating someone could be harmful._

_Of course,_ **he** _didn't know that in the future, the spell would be adjusted to be completely harmless outside of the memory loss._

_What he and_ **he **_didn't know was that there was something else that could undo the potion._

_Love. Care. Ideas_ **he**_ despised. But it happened. And so a decade and a half later, Lucius was truly_ _free._

* * *

Lucius awoke and sat up immediately as if there was suddenly a spring where his back had been that made him sit so upright.

"Father!" Draco exclaimed. Lucius had been asleep for three hours. The whole time, Draco had been at his bedside. Narcissa had somehow figured out how to use some of her kitchen appliances and had made simple food to the best of her ability and was now sitting across from Draco, on the other side of the bed. A platter of salad and a glass of water sat on the bedside table next to her.

"I know," Lucius gasped.

"Father, can you breathe?"

"Water!" he croaked. Narcissa immediately handed him the glass, but he almost dropped it. Draco tilted his father's head up while his mother poured the drink down his throat.

Lucius swallowed, winced, and started panting for breath, much like a runner after a sprint.

"Father," Draco began, "when you woke up, you said 'I know'. What is it you know?"

"A memory returned to me in my sleep. I know the reason for my behavior."

"And?" Narcissa gently prompted.

So Lucius told his family about The Dark Lord and his Imperius potion. When he was done, the family hugged each other - something no Malfoy would ever do. But this situation called for it.

"Draco," Narcissa started, turning to her son, "I am truly sorry for all I have done to you. No, I was not under any potion or curse, but I did it for you father."

When Lucius looked ashamed, Narcissa told him, "It's not your fault, remember? It's _his_. He did this to you, and we can thank Draco for undoing it."

"I didn't really do anything-" Draco tried, but Narcissa interrupted him.

"Of course, you did. Your love for father has saved him from this horrible curse. And Draco, I'm really truly sorry. I have not behaved as a proper mother should."

"It's not your fault either," Draco said. "You had no choice. On a different not, there were times when father seemed like he was in a light mood."

"I suspect," Lucius said, "that the potion isn't stable. Or perhaps, like most other potions, it wears off over time."

"So The Dark Lord isn't dead, is he?"

"I fear he will return. Once more, we must be faithful to him."

"Or you can just act like it."

The parents just stared at their son so he elaborated. "First of all, I freed Dobby earlier this summer. Potter may have tried to free him, but wasn't actually freeing him. Dobby is thankful and kept this a secret for me." He told them the full story of had happened the day Dobby had gone to see Harry Potter.

"Is that so?" Lucius said.

"Don't be angry."

"Draco, I understand why you did it."

"Good. Great. Er, one more- actually, a few more things." Draco proceeded to tell them about his first two years at Hogwarts, everything, except his wand. That was a secret he kept to himself. He also "neglected" to mention the Necessity Room and his training. His parents overlooked his magic usage.

"So it was you who stopped Quirrell and killed the Basilisk?" Narcissa confirmed.

"Yes. But you had better not tell anyone. We all know that The Dark Lord is coming back. We must pretend that we are with him. I promise, no, I swear, I vow, that I will bring him down. I will not die while doing it."

"Careful, son," Lucius warned, "you're starting to sound like a Gryffindor."

"Funny, that's what Dumbledore said. Anyway, don't be ridiculous. I'm doing this for my family's sake and to be able to live in peace. Besides, I'll be famous for this...and I want to be the one to defeat him. He's done too much to us. This is revenge."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin and Malfoy."

"That's because I am."

* * *

The Malfoys spent a lot more time together since that day. For starters, they all learned how to use the kitchen appliances properly and prepare food by themselves.

During Draco's second year, the Malfoys hadn't thrown a ball for specific reasons. However, Narcissa promised her son that she wouldn't be throwing any more balls when she found out that he hated them. That was that.

Draco finally got his Mirror of Erised desire: a happy family. They weren't exactly _happy_ with the whole "Voldemort's coming back" looming over their heads. They were just happy to be together, to have people that cared about them to care about in return.

They had all nonverbally agreed to be who they were supposed to act like in public, but at home, they were themselves.

_So this is what it's like to care about someone,_ Draco thought, _and be cared about_. He smiled. In his chaotic life, that was all he could ask for at this point.

Family. In blood and at heart.

**THE END**

**Thanks for reading! This was book 2 and now you can go read book 3.**


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